Same In The End
by MDT
Summary: FINISHED! On a frosty day in December, she decides to stop beating around the year-old bush and tell Arnold how she really feels... and all leads to certain tradgedy. Drama/Humor... It's kind of funny. Read it. PG-13 for STRONG LANGUAGE and ADULT THEMES!
1. Author's Note and Prologue

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

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Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

Author's Note:

Well, I'm not the first and I definitely won't be the last to finally jump on the idea of having the Hillwood kids in high school away from their grade school days. Which is why I've rated this story PG-13. Not because of the fact that they're older (That would just be stupid), but that you know as well as I know that kids in High School aren't anywhere near G or even PG. Some of you may be, but you're a slim three-percent out of a hundred. Most likely, you're Mormon too. I have no grudge against you, it's just after a while you're vocabulary just seems to go beyond such insinuations as "stinkin'" and "freakin'". Sometimes at fourth grade it's even like that, which is why Hey Arnold is a complete work of fiction. I don't know any city kids in fourth grade whose mouths have a TV Y rating. It just doesn't happen. I live in the suburbs and I can't walk down the street without some third grader singing every word to Eminem's "Drips" right behind me. _That's why I ain't got no time… for these games and stupid tricks… _Anyway, the point is that the PG-13 rating on this story isn't for violence or some kid committing suicide or anything: it's for language and some strong sexual content. If you can't handle it, don't even start to read it so you can whine at me about it. I don't care. With that said, I hope you enjoy the story.

Shaun Blankenship

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PROLOGUE

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Outside, the rain pounded against her window. The sound of every droplet banging violently against her window had started to get irritating. It was nights like these that reminded her of the old days. It was the worst storm the city of Hillwood had ever seen since the flood when she was in fourth grade. Although the city wasn't flooded now, this storm was still pretty bad.

In two more weeks, school would finally reopen and Helga would return for her senior year in High School. Staring out of her bedroom window, she started to look at her dim reflection in the glass. She had changed drastically. The little nine-year-old of her childhood days was now gone and replaced by someone else she couldn't recognize. Maybe it was just her inner child. Was she even young enough to have an inner child?

Many people had said it before her, so she definitely would not be the last, but when she was a kid, she never realized how special those days were. School was almost over for her, one more year and she'd never have to return to Hillwood High School, and she was still unsure what was in her future. College? She hadn't applied anywhere. She hadn't even opened the advertisements sent to her address that boasted of other colleges "beautiful campuses" and "ethnic diversity." She couldn't stand reading them. She always wanted to get as far away from this city and her psychotic parents, but for some odd reason she _couldn't_. Something inside wouldn't let her leave. It could be that this was all she knew; she had only left this town three times in her life. It was always so inviting with a warm welcome, always taking her in its arms and singing her to sleep. She knew if she left, she'd be miserable. There'd be so many things left behind. Her childhood friends, the arcade, the store that sold the red cherry gummy bears she loved so much…

__

…And Arnold.

Somewhere in her sub-conscience, she couldn't forget about him. As far as she was concerned, she was over him. She had no feelings for him whatsoever. She _might_ not have anymore feelings for him.

But if she was over him, why can't she stop thinking of him?

It was the start of ninth grade when she finally came to the realization that she would never be with Arnold no matter what she did. They still spoke from time to time, how could they not? He was in at least three classes of hers every year in High School! What was she supposed to do, ignore him? It was freshman year when she decided that no matter how she tried, it just wasn't going to happen. It was inevitability at its best.

Lucky for her, that year was also the return of someone from her past. Mike Trenton had come back for another year of public school education. Michael had gone to good ol' P.S. 118 for about a week back in the day. Mike had confessed his love to Helga in the park one day and that had been the last time she had seen him until High School. They went out for almost five months, but the time seemed to have moved much quicker than that. Helga lost her virginity to Mike at her house when her parents weren't home. Other than that, there weren't any other highlights to their relationship. Michael treated her like a play toy from preschool that he couldn't throw away, something hidden in his closet brought out from time to time to remind him of all the fun they used to have until it became dull. Helga had to break-up with him; it was her only option. Either that or stay tucked away in a closet forever.

Loves had come and go with Helga. Every month she had a new one and they both would agree with each other that they had finally found whom they've been searching for. Usually it ended with a big fight, a slur of rumors, and a hateful break-up. Her victims were usually kids she hadn't met until High School. Mostly because they were from the public schools she had grown up around. Apparently, P.S. 118 was not the only public school in the Hillwood Community School system. This news wasn't shocking to her at all now, but it was somewhat neat to know when she was in middle school. Being ignorant is fun, especially when you finally realize it.

Seventeen years and five months wasted in this town now didn't seem that terrible. It was spending the rest of her life in this town, being the one left behind but being helpless to stop it was what really scared her. It was as if she could see everyone she knew being huddled on a bus for a one-way trip out of this place, but being paralyzed from the waist down and only being able to sit and watch it all leave her. She started to cry. It was just one of those things she did from time to time. Sometimes she felt like going down into her parents bedroom, going in the fourth drawer on the left of her dad's dresser, finding the gun her parents kept for home protection and shoving it inside of her mouth. Then she snapped soberly back into sanity and realized what the hell she just thought about doing.

The rain continued. She stared out her window and watched the raindrops splash against the wet and empty street. At that time, a car had started to drive up the road. _Who in their right mind would be driving down the street during this weather, _she thought to herself. _Who…Holy shit. _The car turned the corner, and it was at that time it was Arnold driving behind the wheel of the olive green Packard. He probably had just come back from the store. His grandparents were still breathing (Amazingly) but they were in really bad shape. Arnold now ran every errand for them; he made dinner for them and the boarders, cleaned the up the house from time to time, and kept a job at the Chez Paris restaurant to bring some money into the home. Mostly his money would go to his grandmother's medication. It was astonishing how humble he still was. She had assumed that as soon as he hit puberty, or at least High School, that he'd become more bitter and harsh. She didn't anticipate it; she feared it, but when she saw how he had turned out to be she was relieved that he was still the same old Arnold. The Arnold that she had fallen in love with all those years ago. The Arnold that she had to convince herself to give up. Whenever she tried to forget, he's always been right behind the corner with his cheerful little grin on his football-shaped head. The amazing thing that still baffled her to this day was that he hadn't caught on to how she felt. She was sure she'd be figured out sooner or later.

"HELGA! DINNER'S READY"

The obnoxious yell of Bob Pataki filled her ears and pulled her away from her trance at the window. She pulled herself away and proceeded to walk towards the door of her room. On the way, she stopped and looked at herself in the mirror. The pink bow had turned into a ping ribbon in her hair. The bland pink dress with the white undershirt had been dropped at sixth grade. She had gone to a simpler back-to-basics, kind of punk-rockish look. She usually only wore tee shirts, mainly concert shirts with the band members printed on the front or skimpy mid drifts with poppy phrases on them, with jeans that seemed pretty normal until they bagged at her feet. If she wasn't wearing a tee shirt, it'd be a sweater-hood, and those usually had band names printed on them too. Her hair no longer stuck out on each side of her head, but was tied in the back very much like Hilda, her complete opposite from one of Arnold's dreams. She hadn't become a priss or a prep, but a lot softer than she had been before, although Ol' Betsy still clocked in some working hours from time to time.

She walked down the stairs to the kitchen for another miserable, silent dinner with her family. Two weeks until school started and Helga wished it would just come and be over with.


	2. Chapter 1: Same Ol' Thing

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

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Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 1: Same Ol' Thing

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"Honey, you're sparking something, this fire in me,  
I'm outta control, I wanna rush headlong into this ecstasy.  
If I could only reach you,  
If I could make you smile,  
If I could only reach you  
That would really be a breakthru…"  


-Queen - Breakthru

"Hey Arnold! Hey Arnold! Hey Arnold! Hey-"

Arnold brought his hand down violently on the alarm clock in his image. It was a wonder why he still kept it around. The sound of its repetitious alarm was growing on Arnold's nerves. Maybe it held a nostalgic value to him, but he still didn't know why he hadn't retired the damn thing yet.

His room had changed considerably since he was in fourth grade. The blue wallpaper that donned the sides of his room had been covered by a darker shade of paint than the cloudy décor had to offer. His stereo was the same; nothing had changed in the actual equipment it used but a few additional speakers were added. Everything was still remote control. His in-wall couch had broken and now was stuck as a permanent piece of furniture in Arnold's room. Maybe Frost _had_ said it best; "Nothing gold can stay". Nothing lasts forever, especially when it's electric. This rule was especially affective to Sony Discmans.

He no longer wore the teddy bear pajamas that Harold had harassed him about so many years ago. He still wore "pajamas" in a sense; they were just gray gym shorts and a white shirt. You never grow out of some things, yet that's not always a good thing; but when it comes to pajamas, who really cares?

Arnold went to take a shower and get dressed. After that, he would get dressed in his usual school attire. No more plaid shirts with turquoise sweaters; now he usually wore shirts much like the one under his old sweater unbuttoned with a shirt under it usually containing a silly catch phrase. "Give me a dollar and I'll leave you alone" was the current flavor of the day. All that and cheap jeans from his local department store. Arnold was never one to go overboard with trends, so he just wore what he liked. That's an amiable trait hard to find these days.

After getting dressed, he went to work on his hair. The cornflower hair had now drooped behind his head instead of puffing out in every direction possible. He had lost his blue hat two years ago; otherwise he would've worn the only real memory of his parents everywhere until he died. Nobody knows what happened to it, but they'd soon find out if they were to raid Helga Pataki's closet.

His face was blemish-free, thanks to the acne fighting power of Clearasil! Yes, Clearasil, the only acne fighter with power beyond belief! Nobody had ever really seen Arnold with a pimple. As soon as Arnold had noticed one over the summer, he started using the treatment everyday. There was only one thing Arnold could think of every time he used it: _Poor Eugene._ Eugene had not been so lucky. Being an everlasting jinx, Eugene's acne had taken over his entire face and still hung around. His mother had taken him to a doctor to treat it but that still didn't work. Maybe he was just doomed to spend the rest of his life with a minefield above his shoulders. Back in middle school, something like that might have been found funny, but now it was just sad. He really, honestly pitied Eugene. He was the most unfortunate person on the planet.

Arnold heard a voice from downstairs. "Arnold! _Ar-nold!_" His grandpa bellowed as loud as he could from the kitchen downstairs.

Arnold hollered back down, "I'll be right there!" He quickly made his way on the stairs.

Arnold's grandpa sat at the kitchen table as motionless as a corpse. Arnold was sure that one day; it would just be a corpse. He didn't know what he'd do if they were to die; they were the closest things to parents he's ever had. He couldn't stand to lose two sets of family members. "What do you need, grandpa?

His grandpa looked at Arnold in a glazed confusion. "You know, I honestly don't remember. Oh, could you make me some oatmeal?"

"Grandpa, I'm really sorry, but I don't have time." Arnold set two s'more pop-tarts down in the toaster. "The bus'll be here in two minutes. I can start microwaving a bowl for you, but you're going to have to take it out of the microwave. I'll be gone by then."

Grandpa gave a heavy sigh. "Oh, I don't want to get up."

"Well, do you want some applesauce then? You have to have _something_ for breakfast." Arnold grabbed a backpack from the front of the stairway. He had left it there last night before he went to bed. Even though he wasn't going to need it today, he still brought it. You never needed anything for the first day except a pen or pencil. Grandpa made a groan at the thought of Arnold's applesauce idea. "Come on, grandpa. I'd give you a pop-tart but you know what the doctor said."

Grandpa waved his arms mockingly. "Yeah, yeah, I know. 'No really sugary substances, they're bad for my heart.' Phooey! Listen, Arnold, those doctors are quacks! I may have the body of the old man, but I also have the digestive system of a… a… I can't think of any comparisons but it's good!"

Arnold flashed his grandfather a sarcastic smirk. "Grandpa, work with me. How about I get you an applesauce cup? Please? You have to have something!"

Grandpa muttered something under his breath that Arnold couldn't hear. He finally spoke up, "Yeah, sure. Just give me the applesauce."

Arnold opened the fridge and reached for a Mott's Applesauce snack pack. He opened it, shoved a spoon in it, and served it to his grandpa. "Come on, grandpa, applesauce isn't _that_ bad!"

"Yeah, but bacon and eggs would be a pleasant change!"

Arnold's pop-tarts jumped out of the toaster. He grabbed a sheet of paper towel and picked the pastries out and placed them in his hands. They don't kid when they say on the packages that filling after toasting will be hot. If you do it right, the whole thing will be scolding. He picked them out, took a bite, and waved good-bye. "See ya later, grandpa!"

His grandfather depressingly raised his hand to wave him off. "Good-bye, short man." He was now alone in the kitchen. He finished off his applesauce and threw the container away. He then hobbled his way back into his bedroom where he would sleep until Arnold came back.

***

"Arnold! What's goin' on?"

Gerald was waiting for Arnold at the end of the street. He had changed but not much. His hair now puffed out in an Afro sort of fashion. It was the funniest thing Arnold had ever seen when he first decided to do it, but now both of them were kind of adapting to it. It became more believable. Gerald had replaced his red 33 shirt with some clothing brand Arnold couldn't read. Something that began with a K but that's all Arnold could make out. The rest of it looked as if it were written in chicken-scratch. "Gerald, I thought you were going to drive to school this year."

Gerald shrugged, "Nah, I couldn't get a parking permit. And besides, something's wrong with my car. It's leakin' oil or something."

Arnold laughed mildly. "Well, that's what you get for buying a Ford."

Gerald gave Arnold a somewhat serious glare. "Hey, it was all I could afford! I figured I'd buy a bus pass this year and only drive my car when I absolutely _need_ to."

"That's not that bad of an idea." The bus pulled up and they stepped inside. The shuffled past most of the empty rows to the second seat on the left side of the bus. They had started sitting there once they started high school. It was somewhat of a new beginning for them. The bus started moving before they even had a chance to sit down.

Gerald continued their conversation. "You damn skippy that's not a bad idea! Have I ever come up with a bad idea? Me, Gerald, have a bad idea? Oh, no!"

Arnold struck back in rebuttal. "What about the time you sold Wacko watches and got overstocked and had to sell them back to the company?"

Gerald looked at Arnold in a doubtful matter. "Hey, I was nine. Sue me."

"What about the time you called in sick to work and came in later to get your check?"

Gerald sunk back in the seat in embarrassment. "Man, I knew you were gonna bring that up. I just knew it. Every time I try to feel good about myself, you just have to shoot me down. Don't you, Arnold?"

Arnold patted Gerald on the back. "Hey, I'm just playin' around. Just remember: for every good idea you've had, you've had a bad idea." Arnold unzipped his backpack and grabbed the only thing that was in there: his CD player.

"Hey, Arnold," inquired Gerald. "What ya listenin' to?"

Arnold lifted open the lid to the Discman and revealed a burned CD. "It's got a bunch of stuff on it. Some old stuff, some new stuff; you know."

Gerald made a nodding motion. "Uh-huh… but what's on it?"

"A little bit of everything. I think I may even have some Dino Spumoni on it. Other than that…"

Gerald finished his sentence. "White boy stuff."

"I guess you could say that."

"No Snoop or MC Fool or anything."

"No, none of… who is MC Fool?"

Gerald readjusted himself in the bus seat. "MC Fool is this guy I found on the Internet. He sounds like a DMX wannabe. It's kind of funny, though."

"Hmm, I'll have to look for that."

The bus made another stop to pick-up Helga. She boarded the bus and sat in the seat behind Arnold and Gerald. They didn't really seem to notice; they just kept talking.

"So, Gerald, who do you have this year?"

Gerald rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of white paper. "Uh, I have… you know, just read it." He handed Arnold the paper to Arnold. All the kids had their pictures taken and received schedules at a thing the high school called Bulldog Days. The mascot of the high school had been a bulldog, which explained the oddness of the name.

Arnold glanced over Gerald's schedule. "Hey, we have Chemistry and Creative Writing together!"

Arnold handed Gerald his schedule back. "That's cool, man." He took the paper and shoved it back in his pocket.

Arnold put his knees on the seat and turned around to the blond-haired girl behind him. "Hey, Helga, what do you have this year?"

She gave pulled her schedule out of her jeans neatly folded and handed it to Arnold. "Not like it's any of your business or anything…"

Arnold took the paper and looked at it. "Hey, we have three classes together!"

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Gee, what a big surprise. Helga was very tired from last night. She hadn't gone to bed until four-thirty in the morning. Just the thought of having to be back in the same building as Arnold again made her restless and sick.

"Yeah, you're in my Systems of Justice class, Algebra II and Creative Writing."

Helga gave a depressing sigh. "Perfect."

Arnold turned back to Helga to give her schedule back. "Hey, what's wrong? You seem kind of out of it today."

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In case you haven't noticed, I was never in_ it to begin with;_ she thought to herself. "I just didn't get much sleep last night, that's all. Thank God it's only a half day."

"Yeah, I guess." Arnold was about to turn back when he changed his mind. "I don't know, Helga, it seems like something else is really bothering you."

Helga gave him a really nasty scowl. "So? Who do you think you are? What makes you think you need to know everything about me? Let's say hypothetically that, yes, there was something else bothering me. Even if this was so, it doesn't mean you need to stick your little round nose in it!"

Arnold put his hands in front of him to motion for Helga to back off. "Helga, I was just asking." The bus stopped and picked a few other kids but Arnold didn't know any of their names. "I didn't mean to intrude or anything, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Well, I'm okay, there. Now turn back around and leave me alone!"

Arnold gave Helga a calming look. "Fine, Helga." He turned back around. Looks like that were the reason that Helga loved in the pit of her heart still, but it was acting like that that made Helga hate herself more everyday. She asked herself the same old question she always asked when these things happened: _Why? Why am I always so mean to him? I don't hate him! There really isn't much I _don't_ like about him! But yet, I always treat him like this! When will I learn better? WHEN?!_

She reached into her purse and pulled out a twenty ounce of Yahoo soda. She twisted the plastic cap off and took a quick swig of it. Many people she knew hated it when people drank pop in the morning, but for some reason she just couldn't stand coffee unless it was loaded with some sort of sweetener or flavor. If she was going to dilute it with sugar, she might as well be drinking soda. _If there was only a way I could just control my emotions whenever I'm around him! If only I could-_

Arnold had turned around in his seat again. "Hey, Helga…"

Helga screeched violently, "_WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT!_"

Arnold moved back a bit as if hit by the force of her words physically. "God, nevermind." He turned back to his normal position. Now Helga's problem wasn't trying to find a way to get closer to Arnold, but trying to find a way to apologize to him.

Just another average school year for Helga Pataki.


	3. Chapter 2: Start It Up

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

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Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 2: Start It Up

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"She lost her focus yesterday.  
She lost her focus in the sun.  
She sits and stares at it for hours.  
She says she likes to go outside.  
She gets hung up on the wind.  
She gets lost inside the happy noise.  
  
Sometimes I don't understand her.  
Sometimes I don't want to understand her."  
-Everclear - Chemical Smile

They all departed the bus in the usual grogginess. When they went to elementary school, waking up in the morning meant eight o'clock. Now almost all of them were forced to wake up from five-thirty to six. The whole gang was there: Rhonda, Harold, Eugene (Ol' Crater Face himself), Phoebe, Sid, Stinky, Helga, Gerald and Arnold. The rest of them rode a different bus and still hadn't shown up. There was one face that Arnold had realized missing in particular.

"Hey, Gerald, where's Lila?"

Gerald stopped and gave a look of puzzlement at Arnold. "Arnold, are you still crushing over Lila?"

"No, I was just wondering where she was. She lives on our bus route, she should've been on _our_ bus."

"You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?"

Gerald put a hand on Arnold's right shoulder. "Man, I can't believe you didn't hear. She's pregnant, Arnold."

Arnold gasped in amazement. "She's pregnant? When did _that_ happen?"

Gerald opened up his complimentary student planner and flipped through the pages. "Hmm, let's see… You know, I think she's do for next week."

Arnold's eyes became wider. "She's been pregnant for nine months?"

"You didn't notice the little pudge in her stomach? What did you think? Her dad struck the lottery and now they can _afford_ food?"

Arnold raised his index finger at Gerald. "Hey, watch it. That's not funny."

Gerald finally removed his hand from Arnold's shoulder. "I'm sorry, man."

"Well, who's the father?"

"Oh, she doesn't even know."

Arnold's jaw dropped so far down that he thought it might've fallen off. "How can she not know who the father is?"

"Well," Gerald started. "You know how Lila became back in eighth grade when her father got fired from his previous job?"

It all started to make sense to him. "Yeah, how she started to…"

"Yeah," Gerald continued. "She started doin' drugs and stuff. That girl got so high at one of Rhonda's parties, that she slept with some one and couldn't remember anything about it!" Gerald looked at the ground, pitying it as if it were Lila. "Man, I don't even know what that girl's thinking now. She's always so out of it. I heard when she first was pregnant, she honestly believed that it must've been either a gift from the stork or that she had been chosen to give birth to Jesus."

Arnold glanced skeptically at Gerald. "Oh, come on."

Gerald preached, "I'm serious! Something is wrong with that girl! She has smoked her brain crispy!"

"Come on, Gerald, do you really expect me to believe that?"

"Alright, listen." Gerald backed off a little. "If you don't believe me; after school, why don't you go pay her a visit? Say hi or something? I _dare_ you to try and start a conversation with her."

The five-minute warning bell rang and was heard even outside to where Arnold and Gerald were. Arnold quickly produced his schedule out of his pocket. "Oh, shit, I have to be on the other side of the school. See ya later, Gerald."

They both walked in the school but were quickly separated in the hallway. Gerald waved to Arnold. "See ya later, man." Arnold and Gerald rushed to meet their classes.

***

The teacher stood in front of the class. He slowly took a sip of coffee from his personalized Garfield mug (It was a neat gift from his wife: a comic strip that said, "I hate mornings. / Edgar Lynn hates mornings. / Great minds think alike.") and began to speak. "Hello, welcome to psychology. Anybody who thought this class would be an easy elective and don't plan on working, please spare me and get out of here right now."

At that time, Sid had started to rise out of his seat. The teacher quickly reacted vocally, but the rest of his body hadn't budged from the slightest finger movement down to where his feet. "That was meant as a joke. You know, ha-ha and such." Sid quickly took his seat. He groggily took another sip of coffee. "If you do have a problem with this class, I suggest you speak with your councilor. I advise you do it very soon, but on your own time. Right now, you're in my world." He set down his mug. " Welcome to hell, kiddies."

The class let out a very low amount of laughter. The kind of laughter you give to someone who you can't tell is either serious or joking. This teacher was hard to read; he had a zippy wit and personality although it looked like if given three seconds of peace, he'd fall asleep for five hours. All Arnold could really focus on was his huge bald spot and the little tuff of hair that he tried to comb over it with. Other than that, his hair made a giant horseshoe around his head.

The teacher took a seat on a nearby chair. "So, would anyone be willing to tell me what you think this class is about? Anybody?"

After a moment of prolonged silence, Harold raised his hand. He had changed slightly since fourth grade but not much. He had joined the football team in ninth grade and since then became more buff, but he still was a little "big". His gut still hung out but now he was smart enough to wear a shirt that would fit over it. His hat had been replaced with a bandanna; another one of Harold's clever loopholes. The student handbook forebode that students wear hats to class… but it didn't say anything about bandannas…

The teacher didn't say anything, but merely pointed a finger at Harold. Harold placed his hand back down. "Um, are we going to learn how to hypnotize people and mess with their heads?"

The teacher crossed his arms and looked down. "No, we will not be learning how to hypnotize people and mess with their heads."

Harold slammed his fist on his desk. "Aww, why not?!"

Yup, it was the same old Harold.

***

A white haired man with a mustache sat down behind his desk and kicked his feet up. It gave him sort of a Steve Martin feel about him. "Welcome, students, to another fantabolous year here at Hillwood High School. I'm your teacher, Mister Cleredon, and this is…" He broke his sentence off and stood pausing in front of the school. "…Systems of Justice."

Out of all the seats in the class, Arnold had ended up next to no other but Helga G. Pataki. Mister Cleredon was the only teacher he ever knew to actually give seat assignments on the first day of school. Usually teacher wait until the third or fourth. How Arnold had been placed to Helga, he would never know.

The teacher stood up. "Now, I can be a nice guy if you don't push me. Just don't make me upset. I'm a very easy-going person and I like things that way. I might have my bad days but…" He took another pause like the one before. "…I get over them. Just watch out."

Helga sat fidgeting in her seat. This was the only class she had that didn't use desks. It had a combination of twelve tables and two chairs at each one of them. And wouldn't you know it, right next to her was Arnold. During this time, she probably would've been scribbling inside of her notebook but she hesitated. What if she wrote something about Arnold but not realizing it during the moment and Arnold saw it?

She tried to break the silence between the two of them while the teacher went on with his monotonous droning. She started, "So, Arnold… how was your summer?"

Arnold looked at her and but his finger to his lips. "Shh! Be quiet, Helga. We're gonna get in trouble."

Mister Cleredon stopped his present lecture. "In case anyone is doing anything besides listening to me, I advise that they stop it."

Arnold and Helga quickly focused their attention toward the teacher. The stress was killing her. _Well, that went well. This class is gonna be fun._

The teacher continued, "I'm gonna tell all of you something right now. I don't mind if you have food in my classroom, just as long as it's not gum. If it is gum, I better not see it: no blowing bubbles or anything and you better chew it with your mouth closed. Other than that, you can eat your morning pop-tarts, drink your soda or maybe even your apricot nectar." Mister Cleredon quickly rubbed his fingers across his lips. "That's another thing I want to bring to your attention. If _any _of you happen to be shopping and you see apricot nectar on the shelf; hey, remember good ol' Mister Cleredon. It will help your grade _drastically_!"

He sits back down at his desk. "Especially if you pay for it."

***

"Welcome to Chemistry." Miss Riley was setting something up on the front lab table. She had a box of matches and a Pringles can. Arnold couldn't really see exactly what she was doing. "Just to let you know, we will be doing many experiments this year, and many that involve dangerous chemicals. I will need everyone to have his or her parents sign this form my aid is going to pass out. Who's my aid anyway?"

Phoebe had reached her hand out. "That would be me, Miss Riley! My name is Phoebe." It was incredible. It was almost as if Phoebe hadn't changed at all since fourth grade. She still wore the same old blue shirt and glasses. It was if someone had taken a picture of her when she was young and stretched it to make it taller. The only difference with her was the effect of puberty on her vertical profile.

"Okay, Phoebe." Miss Riley walked to her desk and grabbed a stack of papers. "Can you please hand out one paper to each student?"

"You got it." She took the stack and began her task. There couldn't have been more than twenty-five students in the class, yet there the stack was well over 80 copies of the same form.

The teacher resumed with her presentation. She filled the Pringles can with some sort of gas; the label was hard to read from the back of the class. "This is an example of the type of stuff we will be doing in this class. Now who can tell me the formula for water?"

The class remained motionless. Miss Riley sighed, "Honestly, does nobody know? You guys are, what, seniors? Juniors? You learn this junk if third grade!" She grabbed a marker and wrote on the dry-erase board on the wall. She spoke as she wrote, "H… 2…. 0! That is water! Now many people think that to get water, all you have to do is mix hydrogen and oxygen and you have water. The truth is that you have to cause a reaction, it's a little more complicated."

She stopped filling the Pringles can and lit a match under it. The room filled with a deafening blast and the cylinder-shaped can flew at the ceiling so hard that it indented a little half-crescent shape on the corkboard ceiling… next to two other round marks. Miss Riley bent down and grabbed the can off its side on the floor. "Now _that_ is how you make water! And look!" She held the can up to the class so they could look inside. It was hardly noticeable but a small amount of liquid sloshed at the bottom of the can. There was less than half of a teaspoon of water formed. "And that's all you get from it! Imagine how long it would take to make a full glass of water like this!"

***

Arnold looked around him but he did not know one face in the gym. The class was filled with mostly freshman, but he could tell that a few of them were almost as old as he was. Looking amongst them made him feel like an old man in a nursery. He pulled his schedule out again and looked at the teacher's name. _'Wittenberg'? Our old coach? I thought he was teaching gym at the elementary._

His schedule was snatched away from his face by an unknown hand and the raspy voice of a woman from his past spoke to him. "Well, look at this! It's Arnold in my Physical Education class. What's the matter? You haven't received your gym credit yet?" Tish' handed him his schedule back. "You're, what, a senior?"

__

Oh… I get it. Tish': Coach Wittenberg's wife…

She walked out in the gym so that she was centered to the students lined up along the retractable stands. She gave a short blow on the whistle around her neck and clapped her hands to get her pupils' attention. "Alright, now listen up! This is P.E. _one_! In case you wanted a more difficult class, you might want to go and talk to your councilors. This is the easiest class you will ever see in your life. If you don't pass my class, you must have _really_ screwed up.

"I have a few ground rules. Number one: no pop, soda, juice, or anything else besides water in my classroom. If you bring it, I keep it. When I keep it, I will chug the whole thing as you sit and watch dehydrated.

"Number two: there will be _no cursing_ in my class! I know we play sports, I know sometimes you may get hurt and maybe then I'll let it slide. If you're just swearing for the fun of it; you know, if you happened to not like a play the other teamed did and you wanted to just tell 'em off, five points will be deducted from your grade."

One of the freshmen snapped his fingers in disappointment. "Aw, shoot, Misses Wittenberg! Right when I was starting to have some funking fun in the motherlovin' class, you had to come and eff all that ish up. Van Damme it all. Jeezum Crow!"

Tish dropped her hands by her waist and walked over to the freshman. She bent down slightly so that her eyes were nearly inches away from his. "You think you're pretty funny, don't you?" She stepped back to her original spot. "Any clear, intentional insinuations of an obscenity shall also mark five points off of your grade. What's your name, boy?"

The freshman was now nervous and shaking. "Um…"

"Last time I checked, I didn't have a kid named 'Um' in my class. _What's your name?_"

He finally stammered to get the words out. "James Pokard, ma'am."

Tish went over to a side of the gym and grabbed a clipboard. "Jimmy, that'll be thirty points off of your grade."

James looked confused. "But I said seven things…"

Tish scribbled down on a grade book attached to her clipboard. "Oh, thank you. I guess that's thirty-_five_ points off of your grade. Would any one else like to join Jimmy here in losing some points?"

Nobody dared to test Misses Wittenberg.

***

Arnold, Gerald, Helga, and Phoebe all sat on adjacent sides of a square table. Many other students had found themselves in the same position around the classroom, but once again Arnold knew none of them. _You know, for someone who's been here so long, you'd think I'd know some of these kids' _names_!_

Arnold looked at Phoebe. "So, Phoebe, what's been going on? How have you been?"

Phoebe adjusted her glasses. "Oh, you know; same ol'-same ol'."

__

You got THAT right…

Gerald put his forearm on the table and started smoothly talking to Phoebe. "Hey, what are you doing after school?"

Phoebe's peach-colored face turned red. "Oh, nothing…"

"'Cause I was thinking if you weren't busy, we could do something. You know, see a movie or go skating or somethin' like that."

Arnold diverted his attention from Gerald and Phoebe and focused on Helga. She had been extremely quiet and was reading a book. Arnold read the title to himself, "High Fidelity." Helga put the book down and looked at the football-headed boy across from her. "Is that a good book?"

She gave him a look as if interrupting her reading had offended her. "Yeah, it's really good." She placed the book back in front of her face.

The class bell rang and the Creative Writing teacher came in to the class no more than five seconds after it was done. "Hello, everybody, my name is Miss Apollyon."

Helga slammed her book down in disgust. _You know, right when it was getting good…_

The raccoon-eyed teacher went behind her desk and sat down. "Okay, now when you think of writing what usually pops up in your mind?"

Phoebe raised her hand and spoke without being called on. "Authors."

Miss Apollyon clasped her hands together and gave a slight shrug. "Yeah, I guess that would come to mind. What do you think of when you think of authors?"

Kids all over the class began speaking out of turn. "John Grisham!"

"Tom Clancy!"

"William Shakespeare!"

"Edgar Allen Poe!"

Miss Apollyon nodded her head in agreement. "Yes, those are some good authors. Who else?"

The outburst continued. "Peter Straub!"

"Nick Hornby!" Helga raised her book up as she said it.

"Stephen King!"

The teacher looked down at the floor. "Ugh… Stephen King is a _popular_ writer but he's not a very _good_ writer. His books are just… horrible."

A voice called out from the class, Arnold's whole table recognized it but could not place it, that spoke out in calm protest. "How can you say that? How can you hold a grudge against the King? How could he be a popular writer without being a good writer?"

Arnold quickly realized who it was. Peapod Kid glared at his newly found teacher. He hadn't changed much either: same old hair, only that he had died the tips of it blue and replaced his glasses with contacts. _Maybe that's why I didn't recognize him at first,_ Arnold thought to himself.

The teacher lifted her hands up in surrender. "He just has no talent whatsoever in my opinion. But that's not important…"

Peapod interrupted, "How could you say that about him? He's Stephen King! He's…"

"Look, if you keep this up, I'll be the first teacher in the history of this school to suspend someone on the first day." Peapod sat in his seat with his never before seen blue eyes looking crossly at his teacher. "Quit wasting your time with that Stephen King crap. There are better authors out there like William Faulkner, or Michael Crichton."

Peapod Kid muttered something under his breath, but all Arnold heard of it was "…stupid Michael Crichton loving bitch…"

***

Algebra II was a new class to Arnold but very familiar to Helga. She had failed it last year and still needed a math credit. She had learned everything last year but a had a problem actually handing in her assignments. It was more of a silent protest than laziness; her teacher had given her a detention in the beginning of the year for putting her head on the desk during the last five minutes of class. But the days of Mister Hutchinson have passed and now it was time for Misses Brown… and by the looks of it, this time around it would be easier than cheating in solitaire.

The teacher stood out of her desk and paced in front of the class as she spoke in a low, shy voice. "Hello, kids, I'm your teacher Misses Brown. This is Algebra II, the follow-up to Algebra I. That's all I really have to say, does anyone have any questions?" Nobody rose their hands. Her message was clear enough. She sighed and spoke again, "I guess you guys can talk to each other than for the remaining twenty minutes of the class. Be prepared tomorrow, you will need a scientific calculator for this class." The teacher sat back at her desk and turned to her computer. She clicked on an icon and went back to what she was doing before the hour started: playing FreeCell.

The class was filled with sophomores and one freshman that had been fortunate enough to take the first class in eighth grade. Intelligent kids had privileges like that, while the kids with true knowledge got the average treatment. At times, it upset Helga knowing that she didn't qualify for Advanced Placement classes, although she knew she was smarter than anyone who had qualified was. It was just unfortunate for her that she had been looked down upon by when she messed up, when she procrastinated and how she didn't have parents who would drop everything they have to help her with homework. The more she thought about, the more she got pissed.

Arnold moved up in his row so he was horizontal from Helga. He set his books down and took a seat in a desk that had to have been there when disco was a staying power. "Hey, Helga."

She lifted half of her uni-brow (Even though she had been teased about, she kept as a symbol of herself. It was the only thing about her she would never changed; and without it, doing the wave with it wouldn't be as funny and it had taken her so long to perfect it) and gave Arnold an unwelcome face. "What's the big deal? All day you've just been talking to me."

"Well, you're the only person I know in this class, besides Chocolate Boy over there. And don't forget, during Systems of Justice, _you_ tried speaking to _me_."

"Yeah, well, I couldn't stand that guy. He just kept on talking; it was so annoying. So what's been new with you?"

"Nothing much. Did you hear about Lila?"

"Doi, _everybody's_ heard about Lila! She's got a kid in the oven."

"Why is it that I'm the last to know everything?"

"Because you never leave your home!" Helga became very serious for a minute. "You've spent all your time caring for your grandparents. It's not like that's a _bad_ thing, but with it is the burden of being less socially active. You're not going to know about people unless you talk to them… or a good friend of theirs."

Arnold scratched his chin. He knew Helga was right, but the only thing he could think of was _Boy, I need to shave. I'm getting' stubble._ "I suppose you're right. I should visit her after school."

"Yeah, if you can even talk to the dopey slut."

Arnold gave Helga a look of disapproval. "You shouldn't talk about people like that, Helga, no matter how you feel about them."

Helga widened her eyes in a weird sense of surprise. "Well, I guess you're still the little Boy Scout you've always been. Little Mister Perfect."

"It's not about trying to be perfect, it's about being respectful. How would you feel if she was walking around calling you a slut?"

"Two things, Arnold. One: she's so high on a daily basis that she probably wouldn't be able to pronounce 'slut.' Two: I wouldn't care, _I'm_ not the one who's having a kid."

A moment of silence ran between the two of them while the rest of the class talked noisily. Arnold finally spoke up, "Helga, I really hope some day you wake up, and I hope you do it before it's too late."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means you should stop living like you're the only person on Earth. Other people live here too and they disserve the same amount of respect from you that you give to yourself. Once you realize that, a lot of your problems will instantly going away. It's the golden rule: treat others how you want to be treated."

__

Well, now, Helga thought. _Arnold has become Buddha all of a sudden._

Wait… hasn't he always been like that?

"Arnold, I just can't have any respect for Lila. She was stupid, she's paying for it, yet she's still treating his body like it's a party all the time! That kids gonna come out with three fucking heads or something! One arm and a foot for its hand! It'll be kick-punching people!"

Even though Arnold found her last comment ver rude, he still had to laugh a little at the visual to it. "Helga, you really need to improve your attitude."

Helga looked at the digital clock on the wall. _When's this class going to be over?_


	4. Chapter 3: A Visit To Lila

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

****

CHAPTER 3: A Visit to Lila

________

__

"How have I been? How have you been? It's been so long.  
What have you done with all your time and what went wrong?  
I knew you back when and you, you knew me  
And now I think you're sick and I wanna go home!"  
-Green Day - Emenius Sleepus

Arnold waved bye to Gerald as they parted ways walking off of the bus. He hadn't seen Lila since last school year, which seemed like an eternity.

__

Why? Do you still like her or something?

His mind didn't know how to answer that. During fifth grade, he had acted as if all romantic feelings toward her had been lost forever, but he still had a few at the bottom of his closet for a rainy day. That was almost seven years ago. Since then, he wasn't sure how he felt about Lila. Around sophomore year, they stopped talking like they used to. _I guess I still _do_ like her slightly, but not like before. I don't think I'll ever like her as much as before._

He walked down to Lila's house and knocked on the door. Lila's father answered in a pair of gray sweatpants and a stained red shirt that says, "I'D RATHER BE DRINKING". He wiped the grogginess out of his eyes. "Hey. I suppose you want to talk to Lila."

Arnold looked at the man's tired face. "Uh, yeah."

Lila's dad rubbed his hair around into even more of a mess. "Alright, what's your name?"

"Arnold."

"Okay." He turned his head inside the house. "Lila! Arnold's here to talk to you!" A mumble came from inside the house that was hardly audible. Lila's dad looked back at Arnold. "She'll be down in a minute."

"Thanks." Arnold and Lila's dad stood awkwardly at the doorway in front of each other waiting for the freckled girl with pigtails of Arnold's childhood to grace them with her presence. Arnold tried to start a conversation. "So… how's life been treating you?"

"Oh, I've been okay."

They still waited for Lila to appear. He was about to give up until he heard her footsteps slowly approaching toward the door. Lila's dad left without saying anything when his daughter approached the doorway. Arnold's jaw dropped as soon as she saw her.

Her stomach had stuck out amazingly from her waist due to her pregnancy. She was bloated, plain and simple. Other than that, she looked the same as she ever did. As if someone had taken a balloon image of Lila and just inflated it a little more.

"Hi, Arnold… Oh, wow, look at the clouds. The just ever so fluffy and white. They're like pillows or something…"

__

She's out of it, alright. She's on Mars right now.

Arnold raised his hand nervously to wave hello. "Lila, how-how have you been?"

She out her finger to her chin and thought. "Hmm… I've been… turquoise lately. That's it, turquoise."

__

Screw Mars, she's on Pluto.

"Turquoise, interesting. Well… I see you're pregnant… How's that working for you?"

"I don't know, it's doesn't really work or do anything. It really should, 'cause then I'd be able to buy a time machine and meet Abraham Washington."

__

What in the hell?

Arnold looked at his feet. _What now? How am I supposed to get out of this? Think of something, Arnold!_

Lila then started bending her knees back and forth since she couldn't really jump. "Ooh! Ooh! Ice cream man! Ice cream man!"

Arnold turned around and saw that the Jollie Ollie Man was coming down the street. His entrance was quiet since two years ago he had a breakdown and tore out the loudspeaker on the front of the truck. Since then, no repair effort had been put in at all. The only positive thing that came out of the Jollie Ollie Man's breakdown was that now he was heavily medicated.

Arnold looked back at Lila as she clasped her hands together in pleading; "Please, Arnold! I don't have any money, could you please buy me something?"

Arnold searched his pockets. Any money he really needed to save always stayed in his wallet or at the boarding house, all of his spending funds stayed in his left pocket. It was easier that way. On pulling his hands out, he found he only had three dollars. "Sure, Lila. What do you want?"

She crossed her legs (As well as she could). "Ooh, ooh! I want a Cocoa Burrito!"

Arnold took one of the dollars and placed it back in his pocket. Cocoa Burritos were about a buck seventy-five. _Out of all the ice cream that guy stocks, she wants one of the most expensive things on the truck. Aren't I just lucky?_

He went over to the truck just in time to catch the Jollie Ollie Man before he drove away. "Hey! Mister!" Immediately, the ice cream man went back to the back of his truck to greet Arnold when he made it over there.

There was something eerie about the now medicated Jollie Ollie Man, something odd and misplaced. When Arnold made it to the truck, he had a smile that could've stretched all the way to India if his face had been wide enough, but his smile looked forced and surreal. The Jollie Ollie Man spoke in a happy, upbeat tone, "Well, hello, young man! What can I get you today?"

Arnold stepped back a foot as if being threatened. "Uh… I need a Cocoa Burrito."

"Splendid choice, if I do say!" It was just creepy. It was like if you were to meet Frankenstein's monster and just have small talk with him about the weather. It just seemed like this shouldn't be happening. The Jollie Ollie Man went into the freezer behind him and lifted a small, shiny pouch of ice cream and handed it to the football-headed boy. "Here you go! Will there be anything else?"

Arnold started to walk forward again. "No, no. I'm fine, that's it."

The ice cream man's eye started twitching. "So, that's it? That's all you want?"

"Um, yeah, that's it."

Arnold could see the veins in his eyes bursting and dying his whites red as he stepped out of his truck and into Arnold's face. "Oh, so now you think I'm not doing a good job, huh? Always backing off, making one purchase, not bothering to say hi or 'Hey, you've really made an improvement!' or anything? I'm just a _freak_ to you, aren't I? Yeah, a freak! You think that just because I take anti-depressants that I'm not a human being or something, don't ya! _DON'T YA!_"

Arnold jumped away from the deranged ice cream merchant. "Okay, calm down. This was all I wanted; I wasn't trying to…"

The psychotic ice cream man grabbed his white Jollie Ollie hat off his head and tore off the bill. He began to rant in a style very similar to Dennis Leary. "_YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I MAKE DRIVING THIS TRUCK? HUH? I'M BARELY MAKING MINIMUM WAGE! I'D LIKE TO SEE _YOU_ TRY DRIVING THIS TRUCK AROUND ALL DAY LONG! COME ON, HOT SHOT!_"

"Maybe you should just leave now, you're scaring away customers."

"Oh, _I'm_ scaring away customers? _I'm_ scaring away customers? Well, if all my customers are like _you_, _MAYBE I DON'T WANT ANY CUSTOMERS!_"

The Jollie Ollie Man backed off and climbed into the front seat of his truck. He buckled his seat belt and peeled away from Arnold as fast as he could making his tires squeal with a deafening screech. Arnold went back over to Lila's house and gave her the package of ice cream.

Lila accepted it and wrapped her arms as well as she could around his shoulders. "Thanks, Arnold! This means a lot to me!"

While Lila tried to hug him, Arnold could only think of two things: that he didn't pay the Jollie Ollie Man for the ice cream, and that for some reason Lila smelled like sour milk. As soon as her arms let go, Arnold dusted off his shoulders as if trying to shake away her disease. "Lila, I should really get going in case that ice cream man comes back looking for me. You know how it is, right?"

Lila nodded. "Oh, I know. In my past life, I was a fugitive on the run from the ice cream police. I know _exactly_ what it's like."

__

WHAT?

"Okay, Lila." He walked backward off her steps and waved good-bye. "See you later."

She waved back and spoke with a mouth full of ice cream she had just placed in, "See you, Arnold! Watch out for the ice cream police!"

As soon as he knew he was out of Lila's sight, he started running home. For some reason, he felt he had to get away from this girl he had been so fixated on. Now, instead of something drawing him to her, something pushed him away. It wasn't the fact that she was pregnant or that her brains had been replaced with mashed potatoes; it was something else. The little girl he fell in love with all those years ago was gone. In her place was a stranger he never knew and doesn't want to know anymore.

Arnold now knew, officially, that it was time to move on. May the past be buried and never unearthed again. Times had to change.

***

__

Dear Diary,

Well, another year of school, another year of boredom at the hands of my teachers. Today sucked like any other day, but it had its perks and high points. Too bad the only one I can think of is Arnold.

Why, diary? Why must I torture myself obsessing about my football-headed affection? When will I learn better and realize that we will never be? Shall the boy who doesn't know I'm under his power forever enslave me? Why do I keep thinking of him? WHY CAN'T I MOVE ON?

Today, when we were on the bus going home, he sat next to me for a change. Gerald had been sitting in their normal seat but Phoebe had taken Arnold's place. Being the good sport he is though, Arnold didn't make a big deal about it.

But he sat next to ME! Out of all the seats on the bus, he chose MINE! And what do I do? I have this guy that I've loved since kindergarten sitting so close to me that we're bumping elbows and what do I do? I shove him. I shoved him out of the seat and told him to get away from me. He sat next to me and just begged if he could sit with me; claiming that the only other seats were filled with middle schoolers and freshman he despised. That kind of brought my spirit down from where I was currently at, knowing that I was his last resort, and eventually caved in.

It was the greatest ten minutes of my life, sitting next to him. I don't know what kind of shampoo he's using now, but his hair smells excellent. When the bus hit a pothole, I was thrown into his side. I thought I was going to just blackout as I sat there with my head on his shoulder! When he got off the bus, I knew exactly where he was going: over to see Lila. God, how I hate her! Even when she's a dope-headed mother, he still has to go and pay more attention to her than to me! When will he notice me and I won't be cruel in return? When?

I can't stay up all night venting to you (Unfortunately). I have to go to school in the morning for my first full day. I need to at least TRY to go to sleep. So, diary, I have just one thing to say in closing: I am doomed to worship this kid forever. It is my curse which I have no escape from, and I don't think I want escape from.

Helga G. Pataki


	5. Chapter 4: Lock Down

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

****

CHAPTER 4: Lock Down

________

__

"I don't know any lullabies.  
I don't know how to make you mine.  
But I can learn."  
The White Stripes - I Can Learn

The next day's bus ride was almost a rerun of the episode yesterday, except no longer was Arnold interested in seeing his peers' schedules. It was almost like an alternative take for a movie that was shot a week before the writer decided he wanted to do something different. It was the same cranky Helga, the same Arnold and Gerald, and the same nameless faces. It was eerie like déjà vu but yet new and unexpected in some way.

They all seemed to pile off the bus the same way in the same fashion, even groggier than yesterday. It was the rudest awakening possible. It was almost like all of them were thinking, _You mean I have to wake up this early EVERY day?_ The exhausted students shuffled into their school in a tired hustle.

There was one change with Helga today; she wore a pink bow. While looking through a box in her closet for her diary which he hadn't touched for years. It lay lifeless across many of her old books of poetry like a dead family member that everybody just figured was 'out of sight, out of mind'. She placed it where she would've been wearing her ribbon, which gave her this odd Minnie Mouse quality.

__

If only it were red with white polka dots…

Helga could almost predict when it was going to happen. She knew that any minute now while scattering inside the school, it would come. First it would start with that raspy, yet smooth, voice of his come from behind her.

"Hey, Helga, you're wearing your bow!" Arnold started walking along side of her. "What brought _that_ on?"

__

Calmly, Helga. Calmly, now.

"Eh, I just found it and decided to wear it. What do _you_ care anyway?"

Arnold's eyes were fixated on Helga's bow as if it were a zombie. "It's just… I don't know… I'm likin' it."

A faint memory came back to Helga of a football. _'I like your bow, it matches your pants.'_

Helga's eyes grew wide. "You… _like_ it?"

"Yeah, it gives you this whole Minnie…"

"I know, don't remind me."

"Well, I like it. You should wear it more often. It's more… you. It fits you perfectly."

This may have been the first time the word 'perfect' had ever been associated in any way with Helga to her knowledge. "Um… thanks, Arnold. That's… really… nice of you."

She wanted to smack herself in the face from her embarrassment.

Arnold just smiled at her. "Have a good day, Helga," he said, and then walked in the opposite direction.

Helga had stepped out of the hallway traffic and stopped walking once she knew he couldn't see her anymore and just waved on the off chance that he might turn around and see her waving. If only the four words in her throat could've surfaced past her guilt and emotions.

But, nope, they didn't.

Helga let the built-up air in her anxious chest out in a depressing sigh through her throat and the words she couldn't say. It's just another school day for Helga G. Pataki, and it sucked like usual.

***

First hour was nothing: blah blah blah, Freud, psychology, 'abandoned children end up abandoned', et cetera. Mister Lynn just droned on and on but luckily, didn't assign any work. If that had happened, Arnold would've been so lost that he would've had to read the entire textbook over to even _start_ to comprehend the work. Arnold knew it.

What really had been a workout was second hour. First of all, Mister Cleredon was ten minutes late to class. Whatever the reason was, it couldn't have been good and that was easily figured out when he finally arrived. Arnold didn't have to pay attention to first hour to realize that.

The teacher stomped into the room (As happily as he could) and quickly slammed a huge pile of paper on his desk. He then approached the class with his hands wide spread in an almost believable chipper attitude. "Good morning, class. You all know who I am, I may not know all of you yet… except for you, you little trouble maker."

Mister Cleredon pointed to a black-haired kid in the middle of the classroom with a mischievous grin and an old pair of red-framed glasses.

He quickly got back to his point, "Any who, as you might have noticed, I'm not in the greatest of moods. What you might not have noticed is that on top of that, I have nothing on my docket for today. I had an idea of what I wanted to do, but now the school board won't let me do it. No matter how hard you fight, the system…" This anticipative pause was getting extremely annoying to both Arnold and Helga. "…always wins."

Mister Cleredon took the stack of papers and placed them in a lower drawer of his desk. "I figured today, I'd have you watch a movie. If _anybody_ talks through it, you'll get a detention. If _anybody_ sleeps through the movie, you'll get a detention. I'm not a mean guy, but I want you to pay…" _Oh, godda- _"…attention."

Mister Cleredon turned on a TV that was attached to a black console in a corner of the room. A VCR was connected to it that rested on his cheap metal computer desk. He picked up a remote control that rested on his desk until he had moved it. "Okay, now if you kids are ready, I have a nice little video for you about search and seizure. You won't need this information now, but actually in a week. If you have a problem with it, I suggest you make a complaint to the front office instead of to me. Are we ready?"

The class remained silent.

"Hey, Robert, could you turn off the lights?"

Once everything was ready, Mister Cleredon finally hit play on his VCR and left the room. He didn't go far, and could be seen out of the classroom window yelling at another staff member.

The TV blared out annoying muzak with a voice to match. "The following program you are about to see is a dramatization. These are real kids, not professional actors, your age replaying a situation that they were involved in themselves. At the end of this tape, you will be asked to determine if the search the police conducted on them was indeed a legal or illegal search…"

Unlike the last time, it had been Arnold who started talking to Helga. Helga had taken the spare time and used it to take notes on the movie. He turned towards her and whispered, "Hey, Helga, what are you doing after school?"

She quickly snapped her head towards him with a resentful glare. She whispered back, "Arnold, we're not supposed to be talking! Didn't you just hear him?"

"That didn't stop _you_ yesterday. I can't stand this stuff these sorts of tapes. They just drag on and on. Besides, he's out there and we're in here. He can't hear us. And all I asked was what you were doing today."

"Nothing with _you_, period."

"Come on, Helga. We're friends, aren't we? We're not enemies. I was just asking if you wanna hang out. I don't work today, Gerald does, and everyone else is gonna be busy after school too."

"What makes you think that _I_ don't have plans?"

"Do you?"

Helga stared at Arnold sarcastically. "Okay, I don't have plans, buts still. Why would you want to hang out with me? I mean…"

"Fine, forget I said anything. I just…"

Helga yelled out in protest, "_HEY!_"

At that moment, Mister Cleredon had stepped back into class. He turned the lights on, went to his desk and grabbed the seating chart. "Arnold and… Helga, I expect to see the two of you after school for detention."

The lights went back out and the teacher left again. Helga rolled her eyes at Arnold. "_Now_ I have plans for after school."

***

Out of all the days to get stuck in detention, I get put in on the first full day of school, all thanks to football-head. Why couldn't he have just kept his big mouth shut?

Before going to detention, I bitched about it to him but he still didn't care. He blamed me for yelling out and said _I _was the one who got us in trouble or whatever. I wasn't really listening. Well, detention is about to start and if Arnold's not here in two minutes, he can't serve and is suspended.

But of course, me and my big mouth, he shows up right on time and sits on the complete opposite side of the room from me. Good, he better not come _near_ me today.

Oh, look who's coming in now. Who else gets detention on the first day? It's Little Prom Queen Princess Rhonda Wellington Lloyd. I wonder what she did to get here, wear plaid and polka dots?

Again with those polka dots, my God!

Rhonda sat down behind me. I don't know what's her deal; she became even more stuck up and conceded when we started high school. She now does her hair up in this little bun thing that makes her look like something out of the fifties and wears nothing but this one name brand, Abernathee and Finch. I guess in eighth grade she did a magazine advertisement for them (I have no idea where people apply for that) and since then, she's worn nothing but them. It's getting annoying. She must've ordered their entire catalogue or something! I just feel like punching her in the eyes so her contacts break and she goes blind.

Well, of course, Mister Lynn was put in charge of supervising today's detention and fell asleep as soon as it started. Typical. I remember last year when I had him, he'd fall asleep in his desk during class and eventually Eugene would wake him up because 'he couldn't live without his homework'. Poor Eugene; I remember laughing at his acne and now… it's just kind of _sad_.

"What are you in for?"

I turned around to Rhonda. "Oh, so now you're gonna try and talk to me? After I'll the shit you've put me through?"

"Hey, I'm sorry! Past is the past, let's leave it at that. Besides, I haven't bothered you since ninth grade."

"Yes, Rhonda, but the web site's still out there."

"Look, I was angry at you, I made it, but then I lost the password. I'm sorry I did it."

"Oh, you're sorry alright…"

"You can't dwell on old shit all your life, Helga." Tell me about it. "Eventually you have to get over it."

"Fine, what did _you_ do to get in here?"

In my mind, I envisioned her saying exactly what I had guessed earlier, but then she spoke. "I stole twenty bucks out of the teacher's desk."

"What, are you stupid?"

"I was his assistant, he left the room, I was looking through the drawers in his desk and found it. He walked in and caught me pocketing it."

"Did you think you wouldn't get caught?"

"Uh, yeah."

"How retarded are you, Rhonda?"

"Shut up, Helga! What did _you_ do to get in here?"

"'Talking in class'."

"Yeah, _I'm _the dumb one. Talking in class is so fourth grade."

"And even thinking about stealing from a teacher is the smartest idea in the world?"

"Whatever, I'm not talking to you anymore."

"That's how I wanted it anyway!"

I turned back around. Who did she think she was? How dumb do you have to be to steal from the teacher? Even if she hadn't been caught, he would've known eventually! When does this day end?!

***

I was minding my own business when I was struck with the first wad of paper. I had looked from the way it hit me, and saw Helga Pataki giving me a deplorable scowl. I picked up the crumpled-up piece of paper and opened it to read 'I hate you, Arnold! Sincerely, Helga.' I crumpled it back up and threw it in the trashcan. _That_ was really mature.

How come Helga has such a grudge against me? I hardly did anything; _she_ got us here. It was her fault because she yelled out, I stayed reasonably quiet. I need some tea right now. I really need some Chai Spice tea right now.

That wasn't the end of it. Another ball of paper zinged above the desks and hit my head. If only it wasn't such a wide and easy target. I wonder if I could fix it with plastic surgery…

I opened up the ball to read the letter. Once again: 'Arnold, _I HATE YOU! AHHHHH!_' Hmm, really? Maybe I didn't understand the first note. You know what? Maybe I don't understand this one either! What are you gonna do, Helga?

If _only_ I had said that to her.

***

Mister Lynn's watch alarm started beeping frantically and for a moment he was actually conscience. During those five seconds, he motioned the kids out to the door. "You're free, you're free…" He then fell back asleep. Arnold, Helga, and Rhonda all proceeded to get up and walk out while Mister Lynn would sleep until the janitor told him to leave.

Arnold was the first out, and as soon as his feet hit the floor outside of the classroom, Helga punched him in the back of the shoulder. "Way to go, football-head!"

"I've explained this to you repetitively, Helga." _Did I just say 'repetitively'? _"It wasn't my fault. You got the teacher's atten-"

Helga cut him off. "Shut up! I hate you!"

"Then why are you talking to me?"

"Because I'm not sure if you're aware of how incredibly stupid you are!"

"You know what, Helga. If you hate me so much then shut up. I'm not going to waste all my time arguing with you."

"Well, I'm sorry that you're a moron!"

"Helga, I don't ever want to talk to you again. Good-bye." Arnold stomped down the hallway away from Helga and kicked open the door to the outside. Helga stood frozen in her place while Rhonda stood at a distance just watching.

__

What have I done? What have I done_!_

Rhonda came over to Helga and placed an elbow on her shoulder. "Damn, Helga. You don't know when to quit, do you?"

Helga didn't even bother responding. She just spun around and socked Rhonda right in the middle of her face causing her nose to bleed. "_SHUT UP!_"

Helga walked angrily away from Rhonda's crying body and towards her locker. She spun the combination open and grabbed two textbooks. She slammed it shut and stormed out of the school. Rhonda got up to go to the bathroom, leaving a trail of blood behind her.

Yet, her shirt remained stainless. Amazing.


	6. Chapter 5: Maintaining

****

MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

****

CHAPTER 5: Maintaining

________

__

"Too many broken hearts are falling in the river.  
Too many lonely souls are drifting out to sea.  
You lay your bets and then you pay the price.  
The things we do for love."  
10cc - The Things We Do For Love

Dear Diary,

Well, I'm screwed. It's official.

The first full day of school and I tell the one boy I've loved since preschool to go to hell and he never wants to talk to me. I keep thinking that maybe he'll just get over it, but then I think about when he stopped talking to Iggy and how he hasn't to this day. Then again, I didn't embarrass Arnold by having him wear bunny pajamas.

But why did I do it? Why?

I don't know how this is going to end up, diary. I may never talk to Arnold again like I've talked to him before. I may never get another chance to apologize or connive into making him love me. My imagination could not overcome his anger for me. I'm up the creek without a paddle, FUBAR'ed completely. Why did I have to blame HIM for all of it? Why can't I control myself? WHY?

I can't even eat dinner tonight; I have no appetite from all of the ordeals of the day. My stomach feels like Arnold has just kicked me with golf cleats. I only wish I could find some way to turn back time, some way to right that I have wronged… again. But yet I make foolish wishes like New Year's resolutions with no intention to go through with them. Oh, Arnold!

I saw him at the corner store today. I was out getting some gummi bears and also a gallon of milk for the house. He had stopped by there to pick up bread and laundry detergent for the boarding house. Since he lives at a boarding house, don't you think he'd being buying that stuff in bulk at Pam's Club or something? Anyway, I stopped and said hi to him. He literally bumped me into a shelf of cookies and knocked me down. And after that, he just passed by like nothing happened! I was so angry but so depressed that I forgot about the milk and cried my way home. I couldn't believe that this noble, young boy that has always been up for doing the "right thing" has developed such hate for me!

Then again, it's all my fault anyway, so who's really the bad guy? Me, and not Arnold.

Back to my argument, I'm screwed royally. There's no repentance from this. The best I can do is attempt to avoid him as much as humanly possible, yet it won't fix my problems. How did I get myself in this?

It's rhetorical; I know how I got into this.

I think a little change is in order, diary. What do you think? I need to talk to Phoebe; she'll know how to fix this. She always knows or at least comforts me into how it's going to be alright. I need a solution and I need it quick because this sucks right here. 'This sucks more than anything that ever sucked before.'

God, now I have to watch that movie. UGH!

Helga G. Pataki

***

After school the day after the incident in detention, a series of knocking fell upon the door of Phoebe Hyerdahl. She answered to find Helga Pataki on her steps. "Helga, what are you doing here?"

Helga quickly got to her point. Phoebe, we're friends still right? I need some advice; I need your help."

Phoebe adjusted her glasses. "Okay, Helga. Come on in. Do you want something to drink?"

"Have any pop?"

"No."

"Kool-Aid?"

"Yeah, Tropical Punch."

Helga dropped her arm at her side and pulled it back and forth with a clenched fist. "Yes! Red Kool-Aid! Thanks Phoebe." She walked inside as Phoebe closed the door behind them and sat on her living room couch. "So, Feebs, where are your parents?"

Phoebe moved to her kitchen and pulled a large blue pitcher from her fridge. "Oh, they're both at work. You know."

"Unfortunately not. Miriam still doesn't work. I still don't know why Bob keeps her around."

She finished pouring two glasses of Tropical Punch: one for herself and one for Helga. "Well, you remember what he was like without her…"

Helga interrupted, "Yeah, I've been trying to forget."

After putting the pitcher away, Phoebe grabbed the two glasses and handed one to Helga in her living room. She then sat down herself. "One must never forget their past, Helga. You can't know where you're going if you don't know where you've been. Don't spill that glass, it'll stain the couch."

"I won't, Phoebe. I know what I'm doing."

"Anyway, you said you had a problem?"

Helga put down her glass to reveal a small red mustache from her drink left on her lip. "Yes, I have a problem and I really need your advice."

"Well, Helga, shoot."

"Okay, I don't know how to put this." She paused and then took a deep breath. "The other day, I was sent to detention and got in a fight with a good friend of mine-"

Phoebe cut her off. "Helga, can we please use names this time? Can you just say its Arnold?"

Helga glared at Phoebe suspiciously. "How do you know?"

"Please, Helga! That's all you ever talk about! You know I know, why do we play all these games and use all these insinuations and innuendoes."

Helga placed her glass on the floor by the couch, dropped her arms at her knees and sighed. "You know, these are the reasons why I always go to you for help. Alright, I was in a fight with Arnold and now he hates me. I don't mean _hate_ me as in he doesn't like me-like me, but as in now he despises me and wishes something very heavy would fall on me, killing me Wizard of Oz style."

Phoebe stared sternly. "Come on, Helga, its Arnold. Arnold doesn't hate anyone! He doesn't even hate Wolfgang! Remember how he used to be back in elementary school?"

"Yes, Phoebe, I remember. But remember how he got his ass kicked daily when he entered High School and became a wuss?"

Phoebe stared at her water, sugar and red dye mixture in her glass. "You have a very good point."

"Of course. Phoebe, I could go on but I really can't talk about it. Today, during lunch; we both have the same lunch period, 'A' lunch; I was sitting two tables away from him and could hear him talking. He told Gerald about the detention and how he was sick of arguing about unimportant crap with me. After a while, I was going to go over to him and apologize and stood up to do it. I walked over to his table and automatically he placed a hand in front of the spot that I was about to sit on. You know, like somehow it was going to block me from sitting there. Then he said…"

***

"Helga, what do you think you're doing?"

Helga looked down at her lunch tray. "Um, Arnold… I just… wanted to…"

"What, yell at me more? Complain? Whine? Let me guess; you're going to give me some bullshit apology and then next week get me in trouble again? I'm sick of this, Helga."

She raised her hand as if asking to permission to speak but did it anyway. "But Arnold…"

"No, Helga." He removed his hand after knowing he had his point across. "Go back to whatever hole you crawled out from and leave me alone. I don't need it."

***

"He then just sat there and talked to Gerald as if I wasn't even there anymore."

Phoebe finished her glass and expressed her shock to Helga through facial expression. "I can't believe Arnold would say that, Helga. That doesn't sound like him. I think Harold would've said that before Arnold would have."

Helga picked her glass back up off the floor. "Are you calling me a liar, Phoebe?"

Phoebe took her glass back into the kitchen, rinsed it, and filled it with water. Something pure was in order for a time like this. "I'm not saying that, Helga. I'm saying…"

"Well, if it doesn't sound like Arnold, than what? Are you saying I 'misheard', or 'misinterpreted', or something else that begins with 'mis'?"

"I'm sorry, Helga." Phoebe sat back down in her living room. "You came here for help and I'm not being very helpful. So Arnold said all this stuff to you?"

"Uh, yeah! I did just say that!"

"Okay, Helga. He won't listen to you at all?"

"It's as if I'm invisible, Phoebe."

"Wow, Helga." She took a drink of her water and wiped he lips. "I still can't believe Arnold would say-"

Helga stopped her. "Neither could I, Feebs. What can I do to fix things between us? Do you have any ideas?"

"I do, but I don't think you're going to like them."

Helga finished off her glass of Kool-Aid, oblivious to the red mustache from the Tropical Punch. "Phoebe, I need your help. Whatever's on your mind tell me, right now!"

"Okay, Helga. I have a few ideas you can try out, but you have to listen and not doubt me no matter what."

"Alright, Phoebe. Lay it on me."

***

Arnold came home from the baseball field. Arnold and the gang (With the exception of Helga today) still played almost every day. A few years ago, him and his friends all signed up to join the school's baseball league, but it was quickly terminated when the school couldn't provide sufficient funds for it. Since then, there hasn't been another baseball league; but hey, now they have La Crosse, cross-country, and an Equestrian team. That balances it all out, doesn't it?

As soon as he came in, he walked in his grandfather's room. It had become daily routine. Anytime he left the house; he always had the feeling that Grandpa had died choking on a raspberry or something when he left. To his surprise, he wasn't dead, but if he had his TV any louder, he would've been deaf. The television blared out an infomercial: _I'm Millie Bays here for 'Great Grape': The only cleaning product that contains the harnessed power of grapefruit! Watch as 'Great Grape' takes this grease pencil off of this fridge door!_

Grandpa stared up at Arnold from his chair in front of the TV. "You know, grease pencil could come off of that fridge with a wet cloth."

Arnold smiled back at him. "Yeah, I know Grandpa."

"I still think we need some of that stuff."

The TV still was still extremely loud. _If you buy 'Great Grape' right now, we'll throw in this free pair of socks that are stained with chicken gravy. If you want to test the cleaning ability of 'Great Grape', throw this sock in the wash with a little bit of 'Great Grape' on it and watch the stain come out!_

"You know, chicken gravy comes out pretty easily too. Not as easy, short man, but still."

Arnold patted his grandfather on the shoulder. "I know, Grandpa."

Phil slowly stood up and stretched out with his bones cracking and creaking at every flex. "So, Arnold, how was your school day?"

Arnold leaned his grandfather on his shoulders and helped him walk to the kitchen. "It was pretty good, grandpa. It was alright."

"Uh oh." Arnold seated his grandpa down at the kitchen table. "Short man; whenever you say something's alright and pretty good at the same time, it usually means the exact opposite… or maybe I'm just feeble in my old age…"

"Seriously, grandpa, it was alright. I mean it was good. Nothing bad happened."

"Well, maybe it's the age. I'm only as old as I think I'm not." Grandpa started to walk over to get to the kitchen but stopped in a moan of pain. "Oh, short man! Can you please get me my cane?"

Arnold disappeared for a moment behind an open closet door but quickly came back with the walking cane his grandfather requested. "Here you go. You should get to bed, grandpa."

"Oh, I will." He started hobbling his way back to his bed. "Hey, Arnold, before I forget, can you do some laundry? Our sheets are starting to smell again."

"Okay, grandpa. I will in a minute. You go to bed, make sure grandma's still alive." Arnold smiled jokingly at the old man.

"I'm sure in a very light-hearted way that was funny, but now's not the time."

Arnold hung his head down. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's okay, Arnold." He went completely inside his room. "Good-night, short man!"

"Good-night, grandpa." The door completely closed itself shut and Arnold was now by himself. He then said to his self, "Well, I should probably do that laundry."

__

THUD! THUD! THUD!

Arnold turned sharply towards the door. _What was that?_ Arnold walked slowly towards the door, talking as he approached to it as if it were a person. "Hello? Who's there?"

While he advanced slowly, Ernie Potts rushed down the stairs. "Hey, what was that? I'm sittin ' in my room and all of a sudden, this pounding's knocking pictures off of my wall! What's going on, Arnold?"

He ignored what the stubby man was saying and opened the door slowly. When he couldn't see between the crack of the door and it's closing, he swung the rest of it open. Nobody stood on the boarding house stoop. There weren't any messages posted to the door, no packages beside his feet; it was almost as if the thudding was only his imagination. Arnold turned his head over to Ernie. "I really don't know what that was, Mr. Potts, but it's gone."

"Okay, but next time that happens, I'm coming down here with the Equalizer." Ernie waddled his way back into his room.

Arnold stood at his doorway still baffled at the occurrence. It was one of those situations where you won't ever know what just happened here, and the fact that you don't know makes you want to search more. The football-headed teen shut his front door and went back to his task. Laundry needed cleaning; the door needed to be left alone.

***

The blonde-haired girl's heart was still racing in overdrive as she panted in the ally beside Arnold's house. She peeked around the corner to see if her childhood affection still stood there waiting for an explanation. Once he closed the door, she was finally allowed to relax, sit down on the cold concrete, and get a chance to breathe at a normal pace. _What was I thinking? I was just about to apologize to him and I… _ran_! Why did I run? WHY DID I RUN?_

She stood up once she finally caught up with her breathing, and placed her hands on the knees of her blue jeans. She reached in the pocket of her pants and pulled out the locket that she had kept since elementary school. It was tarnished and dented in some parts, but the picture was updated and the glass had been replaced. In sixth grade, she had tripped on her way walking from school and the glass had broken inside of her dress. She obtained some minor cuts but nothing serious and no scars. Nobody had seen it happen either so the secret of the locket stayed secret. Since then, she had it replaced but did nothing after that. The locket remained in her room for years once that happened, which now made the glass shine scratch-free like it was fresh from the factory. The tarnish, however, could easily be dealt with. Helga just never found the time for it in her "busy schedule".

She gripped the locket with both hands and glared at it crossly. "Why, Arnold! WHY DO I ACT THIS WAY!"

She tightly held the locket angrily with her four fingers on each hand at the back and her thumbs pressing against the glass. She squeezed it tighter with her thumbs, as if trying to release her aggression on Arnold through some form of voodoo.

__

Helga, you're going to break it again just like before…

She stopped squeezing the picture and slowly stuffed it in her pocket. She sat back down and gently wept into her palms. Her warm tears slid down to her elbows and dripped onto the gray concrete. Confusion and anger swirled through her mind in a foggy cloud.

She pulled her hands away and looked around. A familiar noise had disturbed her crying; a noise that seemed all too normal to be odd. She opened the lid to a Dumpster near the end of the alley and found her answer.

"Brainy, what the hell? Didn't you grow out of this stuff a _long_ time ago?"

Brainy crawled out of the green garbage hold and stepped out to be level with Helga. His breathing was heavy and nasally like Darth Vader.

"Oh, come on, don't play this mute shit with me like you do all the time. I've heard you talk; excessively, I might add; but whenever I meet you, you only get three or maybe four words out. What's going on, why do you keep following me?"

Brainy, an average-sized teen, now stood different from his elementary years. He stood up straight compared to his fourth grade slouch, his face looked rugged as if he needed to shave but not just yet, and his vision had been fixed with laser surgery which eliminated his need for glasses. He wore a red tee shirt with no printing or logos and black slacks. His hands were tucked in his pockets and his eyes were looking at the ground. He opened his mouth to speak. "Uh… uh…"

Helga cut him off, "Uh, uh, hello? 'Uh' is not an explanation! Talk, Brainy!"

"Uh… um… I don't know."

Helga sighed and put an elbow on his shoulder, leaning on him with a small tilt. "Brainy, look; 'I don't know' may have worked eight years ago, but come on! There has to be a reason that you _do_ know or why else would you be here?"

"Uh… um… hiding."

"Hiding from what?"

"Um… someone."

"Who?"

"Um… I can't tell you."

Helga lifted her elbow off and rolled her eyes. "Fine, forget it. This incident never happened, I was never here, and you never saw me. You got it. Now, I'm going to walk away from here and you can go back in your Dumpster and hide if you want. Good-bye." She walked away from the alley and back home. She muttered under her breath, "Time for plan two."

Brainy walked out into the light away from the alley to watch Helga walk away. His heavy breathing still heaving it's way out of his chest.

That was when he heard a female voice yelling from down the other side of the street. "BRAINY! I LOVE YOU!"

Brainy turned sharply to see someone running towards him off in the distance. "Oh, no! It's her!" He quickly hoofed it down the same way as Helga.


	7. Chapter 6: Friction

****

MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

****

CHAPTER 6: Friction

________

__

"And I'll keep you here beside my throne.  
I will, I will.  
To find out what I've always known.  
I will, I will, I will."  
Expanding Man - Download

"This is pointless, I'll never be able to do this."

Helga sat at a school library table with Phoebe. Miss Apollyon walked around in circles as she surveyed her class. She then stood in the middle of all the tables and raised her hand. "Excuse me, can I have everyone's attention?"

Heads all over the library turned to look at her. She then proceeded, "Thank you. Now, this first assignment is to write a historical fiction. You will pick a period of history before the seventies and write a story based on historical facts. Now, this is a tough first assignment, which is why we will be spending a week in the library researching. This will be our only factual story this class will be writing. Now, you can chose any period in time before the seventies except for biblical events and cro-magnum times. This means you can write about the Revolutionary War, World War I, the Great Depression, and so on. You can write about a flapper in the twenties or a witch in Salem Village. I just want to remind you that it has to be accurate; Abraham Lincoln will not be driving an Impala and Chubby Checker will no be releasing 'The Twist' on CD. Does everyone understand?"

The whole class nodded in understanding. The staff of the library and other students researching their own projects just looked at her crossly for being so obnoxious. _You know; they don't hang up 'Quiet please' signs up to accent the wallpaper. Wanna pipe it down?_

Miss Apollyon clapped her hands together and rubbed them vigorously. "Perfect. I will have my student assistant hand all of you a paper with all the rules of this piece and exceptions. Just remember that _this is not a report._ It's a story, hence the name of the class: 'Creative Writing.' If you hand in a report, I will give it right back to you. If I find one run-on sentence, I'll stop reading it. Since everyone understands, I'll let all of you get to work now. Hop to it." She walked to the upper balcony, the seven thousand dollar gift the school had received from the local Campfire Lass troops two years ago. See what selling cookies and chocolate turtles gets you? An upper level in your school library so your teacher can watch you like a prison warden.

Phoebe turned back to Helga. "You were saying?"

"Phoebe, I've been here before in this same, exact position. I can't just try to apologize to Arnold because I can't. It's not me and I can't help it. This tip-toeing and bending backwards to explain what happened won't do anything but make things worse like it always does! Think about it; anytime I've tried to be nice to him, it backfires."

Phoebe adjusted her glasses. "Well, that may be true in a sense, but there's no other way…"

Helga stopped her in her tracks. "Yes, there is. Look, I can just accept this and live my life. Maybe soon this tension between us will lessen and everything will be alright. You never know."

Helga then reached her hand in her purse, took a double take of the teacher and if anyone was watching her at the moment, a pulled a Yahoo soda out and held it under the table out of view. Once she was sure again that no one was watching, she slowly cracked the seal on the plastic bottle so that any hissing noise could not be heard from a three-foot radius. The pressure under the cap released slowly in a hissing sound until she finally had the entire cap removed from the bottle. Once again, she recapped. If anyone saw her with a drink in the library, it was automatic detention again. Then her permanent record or whatever the high school has on her would be complete. She knew in twenty years she'd return for the school reunion and be awarded for having the most detentions during the first week of school. Once she was absolutely sure again, she took a quick swig of the refreshing cola and placed it under the table as quick as she could. Then the cap was screwed back on and placed in her purse as if the incident never happened.

Phoebe argued with Helga's previous statement. "That's not a very good attitude to have about all of this. You and…"

"Look, Feebs. I know where you're going with this. I've been there and I have the snow globe to prove it. Being positive never solves any problems; it just makes it hurt more when it all comes crashing down around you. It's one of those sad facts in life, Phoebe. One of those things you wish you could change but can't even start to understand it fully enough to find out how to fix it."

Phoebe glared at her doubtingly. "Helga, that's not true. There's a nice person in you that's trying to come out but you just keep shoving her back in. I know this, I've seen it."

"Have you gone deaf or just ignorant? I'm saying I'm going to ride this thing out and find where it takes me. I can't bring myself to apology."

"Helga, you're not letting yourself apologize."

"He's not going to remember all of this in five weeks anyway. What's it matter?"

"Iggy."

Helga dropped her eyebrow between her two eyes. "That's one person."

"And now you're the second. You better find some way to kiss his ass or you're going to live to regret it."

"Hey, I don't think I've ever heard you curse before."

"Could you stay focused?"

"Is this even worth arguing about?"

Phoebe grabbed her books and binder off of the library table and walked away. "Good-bye, Helga." She stormed away and sat next to Gerald and Arnold. She placed her books down and placed her head on Gerald's shoulder. Helga gritted her teeth in anger and scowled. _I guess now you and me are even, Phoebe. We're both number two on someone's list._

***

Arnold answered his door to find Gerald standing on his stood. "Hey, buddy, what's goin' on?"

Arnold opened his door wider and Gerald walked in. "Not much. So, are we playing baseball today?"

Gerald looked around the walls of the boarding house as if he had never seen it before. "Nah, the other kids all have stuff to do. It's hard to organize that kind of stuff now. Pretty soon, we'll have nothing to our lives but jobs or college. Then if we go to college, we're stuck with jobs. I think we better realize that the days of the frequent baseball games are over, Arnold. I'm probably lucky I'm standin' here in your house."

Arnold finally shut the door. "Okay… then why did you come over?"

Gerald spun around. "Eh, I was bored. Thought maybe you were too. I knew you didn't work today."

"So, I could've had a date or something."

"Yeah, right." Gerald started leading Arnold to his own room. "Who would be going out with you? Through out your whole life, you've only had maybe one professional scale girlfriend."

"'Professional scale'?"

"Yeah, you know. A professional scale girlfriend is a girl who you date, not just talking to all the time. Also, a girlfriend who you were also going out with by choice and not being paid or bribed to."

Arnold pulled on the string that hung from his ceiling to reveal a flight of stairs to his room. "Seems like you got me figured out." He started to walk up. "And who do you think the only professional scale girlfriend I've ever had is?"

"Tracy."

"Tracy Donaldson? From Freshman year?"

They entered the actual room where Arnold slept and took a seat. Gerald sat on Arnold's couch and Arnold placed himself in his computer desk chair. Instead of the cheap one he had so many years ago, he now had a heavily padded leather chair that sat in front of his glowing screen. Gerald replied to Arnold's questioning statement. "Yeah, Tracy! Remember? You took that girl to homecoming. After that, you two dated for about a month. Then you two just lost touch for some reason. There was really no brake-up, more of just you two pulling away from each other."

Arnold looked at Gerald in discontent. "Gerald, the girl had leukemia. She went under intensive therapy and wasn't in school for a few moths. When she did return, she only stayed around for three days before disappearing again. She never returned back to school."

Gerald's eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. "Aw, man… I'm sorry, I didn't know that."

"Well! Now you do. I'd like to also tell you that you're wrong."

"Wrong about what?"

"She was not the only serious girlfriend I ever had."

"Really? Who else then, hot shot?"

Arnold reclined back and let the words roll out of his mouth like he was calling out the winning number on his own Bingo card: "Autumn Swanwick."

Gerald shifted his face as if he had been punched in the side of the face, and then understood what Arnold was talking about. "Oh, _her_. I remember her now. Long hair, kind of short, claimed to be a wicken?"

"That was her." Arnold got up to place new CD's in his disc changer to put on random. "Sophomore year, I went out with her for five months. I bought her Christmas gifts, took her to the movies. I bought her Christmas gifts even though she didn't believe in Christ. I couldn't ever stop talking about her. How could you forget that?"

"I do not know, my brother. Hey, what're you putting in?"

"I don't know, I can't decide. I'm torn between… Ill Finger or Beat the Elderly."

"'Beat the Elderly'? What kind of cracker music are you listening to, Arnold?"

"Well, I can throw somethin' in of yours if you got it. Have anything?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Gerald reached in his pocket and pulled out a slim line case with a white CD in it. "Put _this_ in."

Arnold took the case from Gerald's hand. "What is it? Rap? Rock? What?"

"Trust me, it's good. That's all I'm about to say."

Arnold looked at Gerald as if he was trying to force a confession of the disc's content with his eyes, yet eventually he turned around and stuck in his entertainment system. Arnold didn't even hit the random button, but instead just decided to play Gerald's disc.

The first track blared out with the sound of a guitar or a horn. The noise was so odd and distorted, it could've been either and it wouldn't have made a difference. The song kept on and a rap drumbeat started playing with a dirty vinyl sample playing in the background. The intro played on filled with the basics of an average rap song. "Yo! Ayyo! Yo! Yeah! Ayyo!" Then the actual lyrics started:

__

Shoes full of dirt, kickin' sand on your works.  
Somethin' gotta hurt, catch a case off a verse.  
Live in concert, kids comin' out they shirts.  
I'm hyped now, jumpin' in the crowd feet first…

Arnold turned to Gerald. "Hey, who is this?"

"You don't know who this is? This is Meth-tical! Iron Lung! Ticallion Stallion! Mr. Mef!"

Arnold just blinked showing exactly how much he absorbed from Gerald's rambling. "Yeah, you just gave me a bunch of nicknames. Who is this?"

"It's Method Man, man!"

Arnold thought about it for a minute. "Hmm. I like this. I don't like much rap, but I like this. I might have to download some of his other stuff tonight."

Gerald pointed a finger at Arnold's face. "Have some respect. If you're gonna listen to Meth, you better go and buy his album instead of pirating it. He needs the money."

"Can we not get off subject here?"

"Okay, where were we? Oh, yeah; Autumn. Whatever happened to her? You two seemed so happy together."

Arnold looked at his shoes and back at Gerald. "Do you _really_ want to know?"

"Oh, I gotta know now. If you're doin' all this secrecy talking to me now, I _have_ to know."

"Okay, but it's a long story."

"I got time. I don't have anywhere else I need to be.

Arnold took a deep breath and started to talk.

***

Now, Autumn and me, we were inseparable. I had told her everything: embarrassing childhood moments, deep secrets. Some secrets I told her I've never even told you. I would've trusted her with my life.

One day, we were at the ice cream shop together. That was when she told me that she had a bad home life. Her parents never really physically abused her; it was all mentally. They had always told her that she was going to end up having a job that involved a nametag and memorizing phrases like "Do you want fries with that?" Any time something happened at her house that affected her family or her sister, she was blamed. When her older sister received a failing grade in English, Autumn was blamed. Whenever someone even had a headache, she was blamed. She was the scapegoat of her household.

I was sympathetic for her and tried to comfort her with it. I mean, she started to get hysterical about her family. I offered her to stay at my house for a week or so to maybe clear her head. She slept on that couch for a month.

During that whole time, I never touched her or anything. We had a strictly plutonic dating thing. There was no sex, no kissing; it was almost like she was just my friend and I liked that. But we did date. We didn't do _it_ but we went out almost every night. During that time, I had gotten to love her more than anyone else I knew. More than Lila, more than Summer, more than Lydia…

Wait a minute, I just realized… Summer and Autumn. That's strange.

Back to my point. She stayed at my house for a month. Her family never seemed to care. They knew where she was, they knew why, only they twisted it around in their minds to make themselves feel better. Whenever she brought it up to them when she did talk to them, they just conned themselves into thinking that she was staying here to give me some sort of sexual payback or something like that. I don't know; her family needs some serious psychiatric help.

One day, I had left to go up to the store for my grandparents and left her at the house. I was only going to be gone for two minutes and she didn't want to go anyway. When I come back, she's on the phone. When she put it down, she was crying and screaming at me. She started throwing all of my stuff around and punching me saying, "It's all your fault! _It's all your fault!_"

She packed her things, left my room and went back to her home. After that, she never spoke to me again. I tried talking to her to find out what was going on and why she had left but I might as well been invisible. She could've walked right through me and hardly noticed.

A week after she left, I was deleting some of the numbers off of the Caller ID. Suddenly, I came across the line that had called her the day I went to the store. I called it and realized it was her mother's work phone. I talked with her for a while to try and see what it was that had caused her to act like this now. That was when I found out what caused her to storm away from me.

While she was gone, her father had sunk into depression. She may have not been appreciated, but she _was_ missed. The day of the call, her father had gotten sick of being part of the reason that his daughter was not there at home anymore and tried to commit suicide by jumping off of a staircase and landing inside of a piano. He was in the hospital for three weeks healing from it. She had been so shocked of the news when she heard it that she blamed me for the incident. She thought it was my fault: that I had dragged her away from her home and because of it, her father tried to kill himself.

Even then, I tried to still talk to her, saying I knew how she felt. She still wouldn't even look at me. In fact, to this day I have still not talked to Autumn Swanwick nor have I even made eye contact with her. I wrote her letters to her house and still showed up with apology presents. No matter what I did, it wasn't good enough. She didn't reply to any of my letters and sent back all of my presents. I was devastated for months, Gerald. How could you not have remembered that?

***

"Man, I don't know. Hey, wait a minute. Wouldn't your grandpa have a problem with a girl living at you house for a month?"

Arnold raised an eyebrow to Gerald's question. "C'mon, you know better than that. Do you really think grandpa wouldn't be able to trust me with her? He knows me; he's grandpa! I'm a good kid."

Gerald thought a little while. "Yeah, but you were a _young_ kid."

"Gerald, it was only two years ago… or something like that. Hey, would that have been two years ago or one and a half?"

"Ah, it's not important. Whatever happened to Autumn?"

"Well, she dropped out the next year. She was having more family troubles and ran away to Canada."

Gerald put his hands at his knees and laughed softly. "You know… you take your eyes of your kid for three seconds and, boom, they flee to Canada. Man, that's just too funny!"

Arnold didn't laugh at all. "So, why did you come over again?"

Gerald clasped his hands together. "Hey, you have cable Internet, right?"

"Right."

"Can I use it?"

"Why?"

"I just need to check my e-mails."

Arnold folded his arms together. "And?"

Gerald produced a computer disk from his pocket. "I need to make a few revisions to my web site."

Arnold sighed. "One of these days, you're gonna have to put a modem in that computer of yours."

Arnold stood up away from his computer and stood beside it as Gerald sat down. "Times is hard, money is low, I would have bought one but couldn't find the dough. You know how that is."

Arnold smiled slightly. "Yeah, yeah. Just do what you need to. I'm gonna go grab a soda. Do you want one?"

Gerald clicked on Arnold's mouse twice and entered into his browser. "Yeah, get me one. Just as long as it's cold, don't grab one of those warm ones from your basement."

Arnold started down the stairs of his room. "Don't worry, I won't. Do you want a Yahoo or creme soda?"

Gerald spun Arnold's chair around. "Aw, creme soda all the way!"

***

Helga lay on her bed in her room with the lights turned out and the shades pulled shut. There was no music, no conversations; just silence. She stared at the ceiling and longed for the days of the past. The good times when she was younger. Sure, she had her whole life ahead of her at the moment, but not like she did a few years ago. Now she had nothing to look forward to. All of this happened in not even a week.

__

In only seven days… I never thought that this could happen to me…

Memories of the old beckoning her to come back floated around the sides of her vacant walls. All of the old days: when she conformed to look like a normal girl at Rhonda's make-over party, when Phoebe had been hospitalized while doing tasks for her, when she dressed up like Lila to win Arnold over at the Halloween party…

The digital clock beside her bed flashed that it was seven o'clock at night, but to her it seemed later. Phoebe was right, she needed to kiss ass and she needs to do it as quick as she could. It was one of those opportunities that you'll wait your whole life to tell and the day you come up with the courage, it's too late. Time was running out slowly, and ample time is to no use to a procrastinator. _What is to become of all of this? _she thought to herself.

For a moment, she froze on her bed as if an answer would magically appear. Maybe some psychic could have picked up her brain frequency and decided to talk back through telepathy. You never know what happens next, that's just how life works. An answer never comes cheap and advice is never easy to follow.

Another rhetorical question popped in her head: _How is this going to turn out? What will happen when all is said in done? What will happen tomorrow? What will happen a month from now?_

The lights stayed off and she lied in bed for the rest of the night. She didn't come down for dinner; she didn't even get up to get out of the clothes that she had been wearing all day before falling asleep.

The sun set to a pitch-black night, which made her room so dark that she could not see her hand in front of her face.


	8. Chapter 7: Nine Weeks Later

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

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CHAPTER 7: Nine Weeks Later

________

__

"She's perfect in that fucked up way  
That all the magazines seem to wanna glorify these days.  
She looks like a teenage anthem.  
She looks like she used to be happy in another life."  


Everclear - Amphetamine

"So, Rhonda, are you going out on Halloween."

Harold had just sat next to Rhonda at her lunch table. "Didn't you grow out of that the same time everyone did?"

"Hey, candy is candy. If I can get it for free, it's even better. Besides, I'm not the only person…"

Rhonda cut him off, "No, I will not be trick-or-treating. I haven't done that since fifth grade. I'll be having a costume party instead."

Harold's eyes widened and jaw dropped. "Can I come?"

Rhonda stared back at the gaping idiot. "Yeah, sure. It starts at eight, ends whenever."

"Can I bring Patty?"

She rolled her eyes and pounded on the table. "Sure, I don't care. Leave me alone."

Harold looked at Rhonda's face curiously. "Hey, Rhonda. Your mascara's been running, what's wrong?"

She gave a bitter stare at the pudgy teen next to her. She looked away and explained, "I just got dumped."

"By who?"

"Robert."

"Robert, who's Robert?"

"Remember? That kid back in fourth grade who wrote that sonnet about me and won the contest?"

"Oh, that kid… I thought he died."

Rhonda pounded her fist on the table. "He didn't die, he still goes to this school. I asked him if he could come to my party, and he said only if he could bring his new girlfriend."

Harold thought for a minute. "Wait a minute. Were you ever going out with him?"

"No, but he has a girlfriend! He's forgotten about me completely! I don't know if he even remembers my name!"

"Well, did he ever say it?"

Rhonda looked at Harold with new tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "What?"

"If he didn't remember your name, he wouldn't have said it at all."

"Could you shut up? Who said you could sit by me anyway?"

"You just sound jealous."

"Of course I'm jealous! I broke up with him to strategically pawn him. I was going to let him dangle and then have him bring himself back like a yo-yo. The only problem was that he never came back! He started getting all goofy with other girls. You know, he was the only boy who's ever liked me that way?"

Harold pointed at Rhonda. "Ha! That's where you're wrong! What about Curly?"

"Curly spent sophomore year in a mental institution."

"All because he drove himself crazy… wanting you the way that he did…"

"Can we just not talk about Curly, please? I hated that little four-eyed creep and I always will, end of story. And besides, even _Curly_ eventually got over me. Remember who he turned to then?"

"Yeah, Gloria. But then again, _everybody_ likes Gloria. What's to hate?"

Rhonda glanced at her watch and back at Harold. "You are wasting my time with annoying chit-chat from the past. Please remove yourself before I revoke your invitation to my party."

Harold just blinked his eyes and walked away with his lunch tray in his hand. He then moved over to Arnold's table. "Hey, Arnold, you're in my Psychology class!"

Arnold looked up from his turkey sandwich and looked at Gerald for a silent confirmation of how to deal with this. "That's right, Harold, I am. In fact, I've been there for a while if you haven't noticed."

"Really?"

Gerald sighed depressingly. "So, what's new with you, Harold."

"Oh, nothing. Wait! There is something! Look, I got new shoes!" He swung a leg onto the top of the round table to display a new pair of black and red tennis shoes. "I can't pronounce the name of the company, but these shoes are just so cool! Don't you think?"

Arnold did not even make eye contact with Harold. He just swallowed another bite of his sandwich and gave him a thumb up. "They're great shoes, Harold. Great shoes."

"Thanks." He removed his foot from the table. "Hey, are you guys going out for Halloween?"

Gerald stepped in to answer this question. "Nah, we figured we're too old for that. We might dress up and go to Rhonda's party. Maybe hit a few houses on the way."

"Aww, you guys got invited to that too? So did I!"

Arnold once again pointed out a thumb to Harold. "Good for you, Harold."

"Well, I think I'm gonna go sit with Stinky and them. I'll see you guys later!"

Arnold waved but still gazed his eyes on an empty section of the wall. "Bye." He then turned to Gerald. "You know, I don't hate Harold, but sometimes he gets a little annoying."

Gerald shrugged. "The boy's a slight bit on the handicapped side so you can't be mad at him for trying to talk to us."

"He's an alright kid, but sometimes I'm just not in the mood for it. And he's not retarded; he just has ADD. His dad won't put him on any medication because he doesn't believe in it."

Gerald sipped from a small orange juice box that came with his school lunch. "Well, what are you going to be for Halloween, man? And don't you dare say Ghostbuster, 'cause that idea is _mine._ You hear me? _MINE_!"

"Calm down, I'm not going to be a Ghostbuster. I was thinking something along the lines of a vampire. Something simple that I won't have to pay much for."

"Alright, 'cause I already have my mom makin' me a costume. I'm not goin' for any party store costume; I'm talkin' about the real thing. She's gonna sew my name and these Ghostbuster patches my brother had when he was a kid on a jacket to my outfit. It's gonna be awesome, and I don't want nobody takin' my idea."

"Do you really think you're the first person who thought about being a Ghostbuster?"

Gerald lifted his chin up smugly. "Yes. Yes, I do."

"I just want to be something that won't take me long to get into or get out of. And I'm not wearing any make-up. I don't care if I do stick with that vampire idea, I will wear no make-up."

"Your too picky, man."

"Yeah, but it's for a good reason. So, who are you taking to the party?"

"Phoebe, you know that. What about you?" He nudged Arnold with his elbow. "You got some fine little thing comin' with you?"

"Not yet. Hey, did you hear about Lila?"

"Nah, what happened?"

"She had her baby, alright. It had to be put under some machines and stuff in the hospital because it wasn't breathing right and they wouldn't let her take it home. A week later, it died in the hospital. Lila confined herself to her room since then. Now, she's saying that she's quitting drugs and what not, that she'll never do any of it again in her life. So far, she's stayed pretty clean, according to her probation officer."

"Why does she have a probation officer?"

"I don't know, she won't tell me. It's still kind of hard to talk to her though. It's like asking someone who's been in a coma for a few years what it was like during that time."

Across the room at a table alone, Helga stared at the two having their conversation. She scribbled in her notebook a small picture of Arnold with hearts all around it, and then erased it. The page was littered with erase spots similar to the one she had just created.

Helga sighed and thought to herself, _There has to be some way to reach him. There has to still be a chance. He can't avoid me forever! I'm in almost every one of his classes!_

A person approaching her table then interrupted the train of thought Helga had been so preoccupied with. Helga had not looked up, but a white envelope was dropped on her table. She finally diverted her attention off of her football-headed affection and looked up to see the face of Rhonda Wellington Lloyd. "Hello, Helga. I know we've had our differences and grievances…"

"Are you just gonna sit here talking or is there a point in all this babble?"

Rhonda paused, clenched the tips of her fingers into her palms and started back up. "Helga, I'm sorry of how I've been towards you recently. I wanted to…"

"Do you mean like last week when you put pumpkin guts inside my locker and stained all of my books orange? You know, my locker still smells of squash!"

Rhonda exploded at that moment, "Look, I'm trying to apologize and invite you to my party!"

Helga picked up the envelope and opened it. Inside there was a small white card with a picture of a black cat on it. She opened the card to find printed inside:

__

You have been invited to Rhonda Wellington Lloyd's Halloween Party.  
Halloween night, 8:00 at my house.  
If you don't know where I live, you shouldn't have received an invitation,  
and if you were invited and don't know, carpool.  
I don't know how to make maps.  
Costumes are allowed but not required  
Refreshments and snacks, including punch and pie.

"Did you make this on Word because this looks really professional?"

Rhonda snatched the card out of Helga's hands. "I had them made down at Blinko's Copy Service, not that it's any of your business. Accept my invitation or not?"

Helga raised half of her eyebrow and questioned, "Who else is going to this party?"

Rhonda tilted her head back slightly and produced her fingers to help her with the naming process. "Let's see; so far Harold, Patty, Robert…"

__

Man, I should talk to him. I haven't talked to him for years!

"…Park, Phoebe, Gerald, Arnold…"

Helga raised an arm out to stop Rhonda's counting. She then spoke ver quickly, "That's enough, I get the point. So, apology accepted. Sorry for punching you in the nose again after you planned the whole pumpkin thing… and after that detention during the beginning of the school year… and that time I punched you while I was PMS-ing…"

"Are you coming or not?"

"Yes, I'll be there, definitely. Costume party?"

Rhonda pulled the card out again and pointed at the bottom lines, "You can wear a costume but you don't have to. There will be a costume contest though if you do."

"Hmm…" Helga rubbed her chin. "Costume contest… what's the prize?"

"Twenty dollar gift certificate for the record store in town."

Helga shrugged. "Well, that's not _too_ bad. What's that place called again?"

Rhonda just turned around and walked away. "I'll see you at the party."

Helga just waved at her sarcastically. "See ya there, Rhonda." Then the conniving started: _I know what I'll do. I'll win that costume contest and… wait; I don't have a plan. _Helga slouched back in her chair and thought aloud, "What _am_ I going to do?"

Phoebe then sat next to her. "Hello, Helga."

"Hey, Phoebe. By the way, I'm sorry about that incident a while back."

"Incident?"

"Oh, don't worry, it's not important. Ancient history by now."

***

Miriam stumbled sleepily through the isles of the gags and gifts shops with Helga. "So tell me again, why can't I just make you a costume?"

Helga rolled her eyes back and grunted. "Because, Miriam, if I were to trust you with something like this, no doubt you'll just go and mess it up or never finish making it. True, a homemade costume would be more praiseworthy, but I think I can find a costume here that I should be just fine. What do you think I should be?"

Miriam's eyes blinked and her mouth closed. "What?"

"Hello? I'm actually asking for your opinion and/or advice. What do _you_ think I should be?"

Helga's mother than seemed to be struck with an old memory. "Oh, I remember when you were four years old and we sent you trick-or-treating as a cute, little bunny rabbit. You were just so adorable…"

Helga interrupted her foggy past for the sharp present. "Mom, that was Olga. You have pictures. I've only dressed up for Halloween twice in my whole life. Any other time, I never went trick-or-treating because I didn't have a costume… or I went as the girl who lost her costume right before Halloween…"

Miriam struck back, "No, no; it _was_ Olga's old costume. We put you in it when you were four and you were just so _cute_! You were just a happy little bunny rabbit!"

__

That maims…Helga crossed her arms in embarrassment.

Miriam than rushed over to a certain shelf that had just caught her eye for the moment. "Hey, Helga, how about you dress up as an angel? We can get you these big wings and a halo and…"

Miriam had picked up the costume and Helga smacked it out of her hand. "No, mom. No. I am not being an angel."

Miriam quickly shuffled to the other side of the isle. "Ooh, well how about a puppy?" Miriam picked a large box off the top of the shelf that read _Hound Dog Costume_ across it. The picture demonstrating it showed a man in his thirties in a giant brown furry suit, complete with a fuzzy headpiece that had droopy eyes and floppy ears.

"Mom, I'm not going to be a beagle."

Miriam took another look at the box and adjusted her glasses. "I don't know, it looks like a basset to me."

Helga grabbed the box out of her hands and placed it back. "I'm not going to be a dog, mother. I want something more appropriate."

Miriam and Helga then walked over at another section of the store. It carried sewing patterns to make costumes out of scratch. "Helga, could you just let me make you a costume? These factory ones are _so_ expensive!"

Helga smacked her hand across her own forehead. "Okay, Miriam. Halloween is less than a week away. I'm going to trust you in making me a costume, but you better promise that you'll have it done in time. You hear me? Do you think you can have it done Thursday? It's Friday today, _do you think you can handle it_?"

Miriam just nodded and said, "Uh-huh, yeah, sure. I can do it, Helga, trust me. I was the best student in my sewing class back in High School."

"You had sewing class in High School?"

"Of course I did, didn't you?"

"It's not even offered!"

Miriam flipped through the white paper packages and sighed. "You kids today, you're all deprived of all the things that my generation loved.

__

Yeah, right. I think I can do without LSD and Steppenwolf.

Miriam then pulled out a package and stood gaping. "Oh, Helga. How about a witch?"

Helga grabbed the package and looked at it. A full-grown woman daintily held up a wand with a large robe over herself. It was a trademarked Harry Potter costume of Hermione Granger, Harry's little "girl" friend. "Um, mom, this doesn't really count as a _witch_." She looked at the picture again. "What kind of adult would want to be a little girl from a movie?"

Miriam interrupted, "I thought that was a book."

"Same difference. How would you sew this?" She placed it back. "But the idea of a witch isn't that bad. That would also mean you wouldn't have to sew anything… or at least not much."

Miriam caught her eye on another costume. "Hey, how about Sponge…"

"Nah, I want to be a witch now."

Helga started shifting through the different isles in the small store while Miriam stayed in the pattern department. A rap song was playing lowly over the stereo system but Helga couldn't tell what it was. She knew it had something to do with a deep circle or something. She managed her way to an isle that had exactly what she was looking for. There were three different witch hats: one was a cheap, wire-rimmed had made out of something that felt like nylon; the other was a fuzzy, thick hat that would seem to droop over her head like a bad haircut; and the last hat was wrinkled to form a face similar to the sorting hat of Harry Potter.

__

God, what is with all this Harry Potter crap?

She picked up the middle hat. "Looks like it's you and me, droopy." She gripped it tightly and went on to find the rest of her costume.

***

__

Dear Diary,

Tomorrow's Halloween and I just can't wait. Honestly, I can't wait. My hand is shaking from all the anticipation of it as I write this. See? Shaky, shaky, shaky…

Well, I don't think I have an actual plan for how to win Arnold's affection back, but I know I have to at least apologize to him. I've said it before; he can't stay mad at me forever, ya know? Of course you know; you're my diary. You always make things better.

I wish I could give some sort of deep sentiment of how I'm feeling right now with this day coming up (like a poem or something) but I'm just bone dry in inspiration. Heh-heh, 'bone'. Halloween's tomorrow. Get it? Ha-ha… ugh. You know, I need to stop writing what I'm actually thinking at the moment, it's wasting paper space… including what I'm doing now… DAMNIT!

My witch costume is great. I picked it out from little things here and there at the store and slopped it all together. It's gonna be so bad-ass. It's gonna be Billy bad-ass; the epitome of cool. Nobody is gonna have a better costume than mine. I got the wand, the hat, the other thing; I'm all set. I just need the green light tomorrow to put it on.

There I go again with writing what I'm thinking at the moment… AHHHHHHH!

Well, if I'm lucky, I'll patch up my relationship with Arnold. If I'm lucky that is. The party is my chance to finally talk to him and clear up all this ugliness between us. Then again, I wouldn't take somebody's apology if they were dressed up in a witch costume. That's just me though, Arnold's different. Arnold's pure, as where I'm nothing to compare. I know I shouldn't think thoughts that down on myself so but it's true. Wait a minute.

As where your heart has been dipped in beauty and wrapped around in virtue,  
Mine has been stepped upon and has toughened me to hurt you.

Nah, scrap it. I've done better. I might be able to slip it in somewhere, but it's crap by itself. It's not really good anyway. Well, maybe I can think of something else. Something else I can sleep to. Something I can forget about.

You know what, I'm gonna stop writing right now so I don't keep wasting space with my rambling thoughts.

Helga G. Pataki


	9. Chapter 8: When The Party Starts

****

MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

****

CHAPTER 8: When the Party Starts

________

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"Maybe it's whatever's in my hand that's distracting me  
But if I could find emotion to stimulate devotion,  
Well, then you'd see."  
The White Stripes - I'm Finding It Harder To Be A Gentleman

Rhonda opened the door to her house. "Come in! Punch is on the table, keg is in the corner."

Arnold blinked and spoke with mouth of fake fangs, "What do you mean 'keg'?"

Rhonda placed her hands on her hips. "You can't have a party anymore without beer. People just won't come. Nowadays, you have to give something risky to have something decent."

Gerald turned to Arnold, making sure he didn't hit him with the large foam beam coming off the end of his Ghostbuster proton gun. "She's got a point, Arnold."

Arnold just raised a hand. "You know, I don't care. I'm not drinking."

Gerald followed Arnold's lead into Rhonda's party. "Whatever you say, Arnold. Me: I'm tappin' that keg!" Arnold followed him as he grabbed a red plastic cup and headed over. "You know, Arnold, I don't get this whole Straight-Edge tip you're on. I mean what's the point? You're just missing out."

Arnold watched as his friend chugged down a cup of beer. "I don't expect you to understand but I wish you could. See, I just don't think I need it. Drugs, beer; I don't do any of that. And I'm not a Straight-Edge. Straight-Edges believe in abstinence, I just believe that you be in a relationship. One night stands are out of the question."

Gerald walked through the sea of familiar faces with Arnold. "Well, you're missing out. As for that one night stand shit, I'm a man of the evening. I'll let the evening take me wherever and just deal with the outcome tomorrow."

"And that's the one difference between me and you."

Arnold then stopped dead in his tracks. Gerald noticed that the football-headed teen had stopped trailing him and turned back to catch up with his friend. "Hey, Arnold. What's goin' on?"

He pointed a hand out like a child pointing his finger at the monster in his closet. "It's her. I don't know how she got invited, but it's _her_!"

Gerald squinted to see what Arnold was pointing at. "Oh my God! Hey, she lost her braces!"

Over by the snack table past the DJ booth (_Only the best_ said Rhonda when putting it together) was a ghost from Arnold's past. A young girl in a blue shirt when Arnold knew her stood across the room now a young woman in a sky blue hoodie. Ruth McDougal was talking to Rhonda and laughing. Arnold smiled and sighed, "Oh, man. She's even more beautiful than I re…"

Gerald threw a hand across Arnold's mouth. "Oh, no you don't. Don't you even _dare_ start with that! If you wanna talk to her, you talk to her. We're seniors now! It doesn't seem like we're too young for kids like her anymore. How come you haven't talked to her at all last school year?"

Arnold was still in shock of Ruth. "I don't know, Gerald. Maybe I will…"

"No, either you do or you don't. I'm not gonna hang around while you ruin your own night pining over Ruth. Now or never, Arnold. Which is it?"

Arnold started walking towards Ruth.

***

Helga was still at home preparing her costume. _Well, here goes nothing_, she thought to herself. _It's now or never._

Miriam pounded on Helga's door. "Helga, do you need me to give you a ride?"

"No, Miriam. I can drive myself."

The voice from outside the door paused. "Okay. Do you need anything?"

Helga adjusted her droopy witch's hat. "Yeah, the car."

Again, the voice paused. "Okay. Well, I'll leave the keys on the kitchen counter. I'm going to bed, sweetie. Good-night."

__

Well, at least she's actually going to bed_ rather than the couch._ "Good-night, Miriam."

Helga threw on the rest of her costume. She stood looking like the wicked witch of the west, except her face was still skin tone. It was an agreement she made with herself before buying a costume; _I am not painting my face or using any special effect make-up. I don't do that… except for that one year… never again…_

She stood in front of the mirror to look at herself. Everything was perfect. She spun around like a fashion model to see her costume all around. _Arnold, if I don't make you mine, I'll at least win your friendship._ She grabbed her prop broom and wand up off the floor of her room. Along her floor laid clothes, magazines, papers and cups. _You know; I should really clean this place up._

She stepped out of her room and headed down the stairs. Big Bob sat in his reclining chair watching a movie. A curly-haired young man had just bungee-jumped off the top of the Eiffel Tower to save a girl attempting suicide. Helga walked to the kitchen and proceeded to walk to the door.

Big Bob stopped her in her tracks; "Helga!"

Helga froze and cringed at the thought of talking to her father. She walked towards the entrance to the living room. "Yes, dad?"

"You're going to a party, huh?"

Helga crossed her arms. "Yes. Why?"

Bob leaned forward, giving the illusion that he was actually about to stand up. "You be responsible, alright? Don't fuck up like you sister Olga did."

Helga rolled her eyes back. "Dad, none of that will be going on. I won't be sleeping with anybody, okay?"

Bob rested back in his chair. "You better not. You know how your sister went and got pregnant after college. Wasn't even married! Now she's stuck with a kid and no father to support it."

Helga uncrossed her arms. "I know, dad. I'm not stupid."

"Hey! I didn't say you were stupid! Hell, you _sister_ wasn't stupid either! She had straight A's ever since third grade. She made a foolish choice. I don't want you making the same foolish choice."

"Dad, I'm not going to make the same mistake. I'm not Olga."

Bob muttered under his breath, "You wouldn't _believe_ how many times I have to remind myself."

Helga turned her back towards her father. "Good-bye, Bob!"

Bob finally did leap off of his chair. "Hey!" He ran towards Helga and gripped her by the wrist. "Don't you just walk out on me until I say I'm done with you!"

Helga managed her hand free and held her elbow in front of her face. "Bob, I know right now you're trying to be the responsible parent and I applaud you for that, but I don't need it." She then ducked her head slightly and lowered her brow down on her eyes. "Now back the fuck away from me and _let me leave!_"

Bob just stood stunned in front of his daughter. "You know, when I was a kid, I didn't like my parents… but there was respect. I could yank those keys from your hand right now but I'd don't think you learn the lesson." He stepped back two paces and continued, "But I'll give you this: you need to change your attitude and perspective on the world or you'll be in for some serious disappointment when you get out on your own. I won't be there to fall back on for support and with a disposition like that, the only job you're ever going to be able to get will be for minimum wage and involve a hairnet!"

Helga swung open the door. "I know that, dad. I'm never going to amount to shit, just like you. Now good-bye." With that, she turned around and slammed the door shut behind her.

Bob stared at the door for three minutes after his daughter had left. After finally coping with what had just happened, he eventually walked back to his recliner and resumed his movie. If only Helga had been there, she would've seen something hardly anybody has ever seen Big Bob do: he started crying. Only two other things had ever made Bob cried in his life, and he was ready to pencil in a third.

***

Sid stood next to the DJ booth talking to the DJ. "So, Rhonda's paying you _how_ much for this party alone?"

The man, somewhere in his twenties, turned and smirked. "I can't say that. It's confidential, but it's a _lot_."

"Huh." Sid took a sip out of his cup of beer. "She goes all out, doesn't she?"

The man took off a pair of headphones he had been wearing and nodded. "I never get asked to do personal parties. Usually, this is really unheard of, but as in the words of Frank Zappa, 'I'm only in it for the money'!"

Sid just smiled at the man's quote. He then walked away and went over into the middle of the room where many people were just hanging around, but most of the girls were actually dancing. It was almost rare to actually see dancing at one of Rhonda's parties, but there is a first time for everything.

Arnold began to approach Ruth, the girl he had crushed over for many of his elementary years. She was still as beautiful as he had remembered her: her 'auburn' hair flowed freely in Arnold's mind through the wind of his thoughts, and her smile was even more perfect because her braces had vanished. She laughed at a comment Rhonda had made, but Arnold had not been close enough to hear anything before the laughter.

Rhonda swirled a glass of punch around in her hand. "Wow, Ruth. I haven't talked to you since we were lab partners in freshman year. I'm so glad you accepted my invitation."

Rhonda smiled and put a hand on the table beside her. "Well, your welcome, Rhonda. I just figured I didn't have anything else to do. I'm not about to go trick or treating."

Arnold stopped five feet away from his boyhood crush and found himself at a loss for words. After another sentence was exchanged between Rhonda and Ruth, they both turned around and noticed his gawking glaze. Rhonda extended an open hand towards Arnold and said, "Ruth, this is Arnold. Arnold, this is Ruth."

Arnold nodded and seemed to slur out, "Uh-yeah."

Rhonda waved a hand in front of Arnold's face. "Hello? Anybody home?"

Arnold's back snapped up and he suddenly became very aware of his surrounding. He was then able to stutter out, "Y-Yeah, I know R-Ruth. H-How ya d-doin'?"

Ruth smiled and let out a small laugh. "Arnold, what's wrong? You're shaking."

__

Oh my God, she remembered my name! She actually said 'Arnold'! She actually talked!

Arnold's eyes rolled back and he collapsed on the floor in front of the two girls. Rhonda gave a look at Arnold's blacked-out body and back at Ruth. "He's not like this all the time. He probably just had a little too much to drink… although he did get here only a few minutes ago…"

Ruth looked at Arnold and shook her head. "Well, whatever it is, I hope he's okay." Ruth and Rhonda stepped over Arnold's body and walked over to another part of the party.

At that moment, Gerald ran to Arnold's side and started shaking him vigorously. "Wake up, man! Wake up!"

***

Helga had four choices of transportation: foot, bus, jeep, or car. With the keys already in her hand, she took the car. Once she had received her license, Bob and Miriam had allowed her to have the car. The only catch was that she wasn't allowed to have a copy of the keys so that they could take it away from her whenever they wanted. This also meant that Bob now drove his hummer-jeep sort of vehicle around everywhere. Usually he used it only on special occasions: parents day picnics, UFO invasions, etc. Now it really was an all-purpose vehicle.

Helga first blipped the button on the car alarm key chain forcing the car to beep and the lights to flash. She then opened the driver's side door, slipped the keys gently into the ignition, and started her car up. She switched on the headlights, opened the garage door, and proceeded to head out into the good night towards her chance of redemption.

As soon as she was on the road, she shoved a cassette into the tape deck. It was a mix she had made a while back. In her free time, Helga would sometimes makes tape to play while driving. All she'd need then was a destination to drive to. A wise man once said 'Without music, you have no soul. Without a soul, you don't exist.' Helga constantly needed something playing in the background of the movie of her life, so she usually turned to music. The tape began playing during the middle of a song. The heavy guitar riffs blared from the speakers as the lyrics poured into her ears. They weren't very good or deep, but they fit the roughness of the song perfectly:

__

Cop's a mile back and he's givin' me leeway.  
Get outta Dodge; dart off the freeway.  
Pulled over to the payphone.  
I'm gonna see if my lady's home.  
She said, 'Come on, daddy's gone.'  
Awwwwwwwwww, it's on!

Helga slapped in rhythm on the handgrip to the steering wheel. _You know; Rhonda's house isn't _that_ far away. I could've walked._ She then thought again, _Nah!_ Helga managed through the traffic on the street and maneuvered the car like a grand prix wheelman.

Two blocks later, she arrived in front of Rhonda's house and parked across the street. _Stupid fire lane,_ she thought to herself._ If either building did happen to catch fire, I'd be speeding out of here. It's not as if I'm gonna stand back and watch the building smolder down on top of me._

Helga stepped out of her car and hit the alarm button again. This time, the beep sounded different and the lights didn't flash. She made sure no one was coming and crossed the street to Rhonda's party.

***

Arnold's eyes slowly opened revealing the Ghostbuster Gerald was standing over him. "You okay, buddy? You fainted."

Arnold stood up off of the floor. "What happened?" he asked as he rubbed the back of his head.

Gerald lent an arm so that Arnold could balance himself upward. "You started talking to Ruth and just blacked-out. How's ya head doin'?"

"It's alright. Where'd she go?"

Gerald pointed out to the door. "After you passed out, Ruth said good-bye and went to some party at the college or something. Speaking of memories from the past, whatever happened to Catrinka? You know, that girl with the one eyebrow and the hair that stuck out like two breadsticks?"

Arnold glared confused at Gerald. "What are you talking about?"

Gerald dismissed, "Just forget about it, I fell off track. I'm sorry you didn't get to talk to her."

"How long have I been out, Gerald?"

He checked his watch. "Hmm… about ten minutes. A lot can happen ten minutes."

Arnold rubbed his head again. "No doubt. Hey, where can I get some Tylenol?"

Gerald shrugged; "I think you better ask Rhonda about that one. This _is_ her house."

"Yeah, you got a point."

Gerald slapped a hand on his friend's back. "That's right, man. She's right over by the door so you can walk up and ask her… if you don't blackout that is…" Gerald started laughing hysterically.

Arnold nudged his friend. "That's not funny."

Gerald's laughter immediately stopped. "Yeah, I know. I was trying to lighten up the mood you're sendin' out. You're messin' my vibe up. My vibe is being seriously disturbed."

Arnold merely lifted a palm at Gerald and started towards the door.

***

Helga pounded on Rhonda's door. _Be pleasant, don't start problems with Rhonda…_

Rhonda immediately opened the door as soon as Helga had put her hand down. She opened the door a crack to see who it was, and then continued to swing it all the way open. "Helga! You're here! Snacks and toast points over there, and the keg is over there." Rhonda pointed out to their locations.

Helga's face then lit up with a five-foot fabricated smile. "Why, thank you, Rhonda!"

Rhonda almost stepped back a few feet from her courtesy. "O-Kay… Helga… Come in…"

It was then that Helga noticed an ailing Arnold coming in her direction. The world stopped, the room grew quiet, and in Helga's mind it was as if she was witnessing some sort of miracle. It seemed like one of the moments you read out of cheesy romance novels that aren't conceivable in any shape or form at all coming to life and now seeming more believable. One of those cliché moments that you could watch over and over if only your life had a rewind button.

Helga raised her index finger and called out, "Arnold!"


	10. Chapter 9: When The Party Ends

****

MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

****

CHAPTER 9: When the Party Ends

________

__

"SOS to your ears.  
The only thing I ever feared was this day  
And having to say…"  
NERD - Run To The Sun

Arnold almost ignored Helga's call and walked over to Rhonda. "Hey, ya got any Advil or something?"

Rhonda pointed past Helga's face and towards her bathroom. "Under the sink in the blue box. You should find something to help. You took a hard hit back there, are you okay? Do you need to go home?"

Arnold just shook his head, still oblivious to Helga's presence. "No, I'll be fine. I just need something to calm my head. I wouldn't leave your party this early."

Rhonda shrugged. "Yeah, I know. Well, Peapod Kid already left. Little punk."

Arnold placed his left hand on his head and raised the thumb on his other hand towards Rhonda. "Thanks." He then started walking over towards Rhonda's bathroom.

Helga quickly followed Arnold through Rhonda's house. "Hey, Arnold!"

Arnold turned around angrily and Helga froze in fear. "What, H-Whoa, you're a witch."

Helga looked down at her costume and smirked. "Arnold, I know we had a fight a while back and I just wanted to say… (_Come on, you can do it_)…I'm sorry."

Arnold's eyes shifted, giving her a glance that shouted '_Is that all?'_ Helga bowed her head and looked up like a preschooler awaiting punishment for crayoning on the living room wall. Helga dropped both arms at his side and sighed. "You know," he started. "We can't go on throughout the whole school year pissed off at each other. I guess it was kind of immature of me to be rude and mean back to you." Arnold scratched the back of his football-shaped head. "I'm sorry too, Helga. Friends?"

Arnold extended a hand, which Helga immediately shook. "Friends. We're seniors, we can't be mad at each other for the last year that we might see each other."

Arnold grabbed at his head. "Yeah, I know. Now if you don't mind, I gotta tend to my headache. Excuse me." He turned around and continued his way for the bathroom cabinet. He shuffled things around and in a brown wicker basket he found a large white bottle of ibuprofen. He opened the child-safety cap (_If children can't figure out how to open this, I'd be kind of worried_, Arnold thought. _It's so freakin' easy_) and took out two small, brown tablets. He popped both into his mouth and gathered a handful of water from the sink to splash in his mouth.

Then he realized he just took Advil with vampire teeth in his mouth and it was a weirder experience than he thought it would be.

Arnold walked back to Helga. "So, now that we're on speaking terms, how have you been?"

The witch looked at her shoes and never took her eyes off of them when speaking; "I've been okay, I guess. I'm thinkin' about buying a car."

Arnold's eyes widened in a false sense of disbelief. His look was almost sarcastic but sincere to a point. "Well, good for you. What were you planning on getting?"

Helga looked up but had missed Arnold's facial expressions. "Yeah. Some guy on Cheffington is selling a red Baretta for five hundred. Bob said he'll pay for it if I get a job."

"You mean you don't have a job already?"

She lifted a hand flat in front of him. "I don't even wanna go over the details. Things became messy, I don't work there anymore."

Arnold dismissed it; "Okay, I won't ask."

"Well, what about you? How have you been?"

"I've been good. Nothing spectacular's happened yet. Nothing noteworthy anyway."

For a while, the two just stood there. The silence between them broke through the blaring music of the party. Around them, fellow classmates danced in costumes. Gerald was break dancing in the middle of the room around a crowd of spectators. Kids illegally drank; in the back rooms, some of them smoked or had other activities that aren't allowed in public buildings, and yet the world stopped in the area between them. For a maximum of thirty seconds, they awkwardly looked at each other. Thirty seconds never seems like much in words, but it's always longer in life.

Helga decided to break the silence. "This party sucks."

Arnold nodded quickly. "Yes. Yes, it does."

"Wanna bail? Catch a movie on TV or something?"

"Ah… let me get another glass of punch. Might as well use this party for all it's worth." They found themselves in silence once again for a little more than five seconds. "So, movie? I don't know what's on tonight."

Helga raised her hands in the air. "Are you kidding? It's Halloween! All the good ones should be on tonight."

"My house or yours?"

Helga's eyes grew wide and she finally realized what was going on. _Oh… my… I can't even think of a good exclamation to fit this situation._ She stood paralyzed in front of her anxious friend. Arnold waved a hand in her face; "Hello?"

__

Heh-heh… exclamation… situation… that rhymed…

"Hello?"

Helga snapped of her trance. "Huh-what? Oh, yeah. Um… how about your place?"

__

I swear to God, I'm about to have a heart attack. If not that, I'll at least faint.

"Yeah, that'll work. I've got cable."

"Premium?"

"Digital."

Helga slapped a hand on Arnold's back but still remained in front of him. "Just show me the way!"

Arnold pointed a finger towards the snack cart. "Punch."

Helga dropped her hand. "Oh… alright. Well, I'll be outside. We can take my car." She paused. "I mean, my _parents'_ car. You know. I don't have a car of my own."

Arnold moved towards the table while still talking, "I'll be out there in a minute, okay?"

Helga lifted a thumb on her right hand. "Okay." She walked the opposite way of Arnold towards the door.

It was then that Rhonda started flagging her down. "Hey, where are you going? You just got here!"

Helga turned around to the now teen princess. "Rhonda, I just don't want to stay any longer. It's a great party, really, and it's nothing personal. I just need to go."

"What, so you're just going to leave?"

Helga placed a hand on Rhonda's shoulder. "Rhonda, what I'm about to say I want you to take personally and confidentially. I have something really going for me right now and I'll only be able to take full advantage of it _right now_. So, please, don't ruin this for me. It really was a great party, but I have to _go_." Helga removed her hand and walked out of the door.

As Helga made her way down the walkway, Rhonda opened her door and shouted, "Well, what's more important than my party, huh? Come on, you have to tell me _something_!"

Helga lifted a hand, displaying the back of it to Rhonda. "I'll see you tomorrow at school, Rhonda."

The girl at the doorway stomped her foot down and slammed the door into the night. _You know, I go through so much trouble and money to throw a party and _this_ is the thanks I get?_ was all she could think. Rhonda's only way of dealing with frustration was to tantrum. Venting like that can be healthy, but its consequences may be worse than your problems.

Helga sat in her car across the street waiting. She sat there for three minutes before she became skeptical. _What if I'm being stood up? What if this is all a joke to get back at all I've done to him? _She then thought harder. _Wait, that doesn't make sense. Why would he do that? The only reason he'd do that would be to hurt my feelings towards him and if he's oblivious to my feelings…_

It was then that Arnold left with Rhonda chasing him. "Wait! I had stuff scheduled for later! The party was just beginning!"

Arnold turned slowly to his desperate party host. "Look, it was a great party from what I saw. You should have one again some time. I have to go, Rhonda. I'll see you tomorrow Monday at school."

Rhonda stared out into nothingness as Arnold walked away. "But we have school tomorrow!"

"Yeah… and I'm not going to be there… I think you would've figured that since you're throwing a huge party on a Thursday. See ya, Rhonda!"

Rhonda was still nerved about the recent departures of two people. She slowly shuffled back into her doorway and closed the door. As for Arnold, he stood in the street to find out what happened to Helga. _She couldn't have gone far… what kind of car is she driving?_

A honk then emerged from the horn of a black town car. Arnold turned his attention towards and found his blonde-haired friend in the driver seat waving. Arnold walked over to the passenger-side door and entered the car. Immediately, he buckled his seatbelt and looked at Helga in anticipation. "So, you do know where I live, right?"

__

You have no idea, Arnold. "Yeah, I know where the old boarding house is. I'm surprised you haven't sold that place yet."

Arnold shrugged as Helga started the engine. "Eh, I can't get rid of it. That place is a part of me. I grew up there. That's really all I've ever known." He turned towards the windshield. "It's a part of me. I can't sell a part of my past."

Helga shifted down the lever on the side of the wheeled and put the car in drive. "Well, let's just add that to the list of things we disagree on. I think that where you've been is only to be used as a guideline for where you're going. Memories are all you can take with you no matter where you go; so what's the point of material? It's just a house."

Arnold turned back towards Helga as she worked the city streets. "It's not just my past, it's also about the boarders. I can't just evict everybody. They're like a family to me. Would you kick out your family of a home?"

"First chance I'd get."

"And that's you. Another reason why I haven't sold the house yet is because it's not really mine; it's my grandparents'. I know if I wanted to sell it, they wouldn't object, but I know they want to stay too. Once they're gone, I might sell it."

Helga sighed. "I wouldn't care what my parents wanted. Both of them are imbeciles. Why should I care about them?"

"You really shouldn't talk that way about your mom and dad. You know, without them, you wouldn't be here."

"Arnold, don't take this hurtfully. You don't understand. See, your grandparents are at least supportive and willing to get involved. I have all the makings of a psychiatrist's wet dream. I've lived all my life with a father who can't even remember my name most of the time. Your grandparents' eyes and memories may fade but they'll never be able to forget you." She then took a deep breath. "You never had your real parents around. When it's your parents who do this to you, it hurts more. A grandparent could treat me like shit and I wouldn't care. When your parents show this to you, it seems like you're a mistake. Like they wish they never had you or something."

Helga's car pulled up to the intersection and stopped at the red light. It was then that she noticed that her friend was sulking back in his seat. "You okay, Arnold?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Arnold looked out his window. "I just wish you had better, Helga. You don't have anything going for you, do you?"

Helga pounded down on her gas pedal as soon as the light turn green and slowed down once she had passed it. "Arnold, this is the kind of stuff that gets you labeled as nosey, man."

"Helga, I mean it, and you made it my business by bringing it up. You claim your parents don't pay attention to you at all, even though I know somewhere, they care about you."

__

Methinks you don't know much, Arnold.

"I know you hate your family, but even you know that deep down, they love you. How can a parent not? The thing is that you have to realize it and make your feelings towards it known to your mom and dad."

Helga pounded on the steering wheel and growled. "Arnold, I have to tell you, you don't get it. Do you know what my dad would say if I just went out and said, 'Hey, Dad! I believe that you don't care about me! Do you _really_ love me?' Do you know what'd he say."

"Maybe you should find out."

Helga scowled at her now annoying friend. "He'd tell me to toughen up and stop whining. He'd tell me of how everyday after school, his dad would chase him with a belt for no apparent reason and beat him until he passed out just to make sure he wouldn't even think of disobeying him at any time. He'd tell me about when he was a kid, his family lived in a trailer mobile home in the middle of the boonies where he only had two outfits to wear; how his parents hardly ever looked at him, let alone talk to him, and he how he was happy with it. He'd tell me that I was weak for not feeling 'loved', Arnold!" Helga was now breathing heavy as she turned a left around the corner.

Arnold blinked at Helga, impressed by her lengthy explanation. "But you'll never know until you actually tell him, Helga." She rolled her eyes in disgust at Arnold's suggestion. "I'm serious, Helga. You shouldn't dismiss this. You have to realize you'll never know until you follow through."

Helga raised half of her uni-brow, which would have been her right eyebrow. "Have you ever talked to my dad?"

"Uh, yeah. I worked for him for a while."

"Oh, yeah. Then you would know how stubborn and opinionated he is. He's closed-minded. I know him, Arnold, I have lived with him all my life. I know _exactly_ what he would say, down to diction."

Arnold looked back out of his window and then to Helga. "You just passed my house."

Helga looked out of Arnold's window and slammed on the breaks to the side of the road. "Shit, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, we can just turn around."

As soon as the coast was clear, Helga swung a U-turn and back towards the boarding house. She parked the car in front of it and shut off her engine. "Alright, now that we're here, can we leave this whole argument out here. I don't want to spend all night talking about my dad."

"Okay." Helga and Arnold then simultaneously exited the car. "Now we can talk about your mom."

Helga looked at Arnold and sarcastically gasped out, "Heh-heh…" She shut her door and walked to Arnold's stoop.

Arnold ran up to hit the door before she arrived to meet it. He opened it and released three dogs and a cat into the night. Helga laughed and looked at Arnold. "You know, I would've thought you had found a way to stop that by now."

Arnold smiled back at her. "I wonder how Rhonda's doing."

***

Rhonda sat in her depression, resting her head in her open palms, on her living room couch. She the started speaking to no one, "My party's a failure."

It was then (with perfect timing) that 'zit-faced' Eugene came up to her. "Hi, Rhonda. I think I swallowed an airborne screw and may need a doctor. Do you mind if I go home?"

Helga waved a hand to him. "Sure, leave! And while you're at it, why don't you just tell all of your friends' to leave too?"

Eugene stepped back a little. "Are you serious?"

"Eugene, just get out of here before I break something on your head."

Eugene walked backwards away and stepped outside the door. What Rhonda didn't see was when Eugene left, he tripped off her steps and knocked himself unconscious on a fire hydrant.

Rhonda lifted her head off of her hands and placed them dangling between her legs. "What a wonderful evening…" She trailed off as soon as she saw a familiar face walking towards her.

"Great party, Rhonda."

Rhonda immediately shot up and extended a hand to shake. "Thanks, Robert. I'm so glad you came. Where's your date?"

Robert shrugged. "Eh, she had some personal business to attend to. Family matters and housework. You know how it is."

Rhonda nodded and smiled. "Yeah, I know." _No, I don't_. "Well, that's a shame."

"Yeah, it is."

Both of them stood there for a while. "Damn shame there, Rob."

"Yeah."

Rhonda bit her lip in confusion. _You have to do something now, Rhonda! Make a move! Make a move, stupid!_ Rhonda clapped her hands together and rubbed them. "So, your girlfriend, what's her name?"

Robert raised his brow and answered, "Oh, Julia Appleton."

"Oh…" _Appleton? What kind of a hick name is that? She sounds like something out of a Laura Ingles Wilder book!_ "You really like her?"

"Yeah."

Rhonda couldn't take it anymore. Her hand was shaking at her side and her teeth were quietly chattering. Sweat was forming at her forehead. Then, without thinking, Rhonda blurted out what swarmed through her cluttered head. "Robert, I love you."

Robert had just taken a sip from a cup of punch he held in his left hand, but now was spitting it out on Rhonda's carpet. "What?"

Rhonda grabbed Robert's head with both hands and forced it forward to kiss it. She shoved her lips onto his and almost molested his face. As soon as her grip loosened, Robert looked back at her with his eyes widened. Rhonda looked down at the stain on her carpet and back at Robert with her head ducked down. "I'm sorry, I got… carried away in the moment."

Robert wiped his mouth off as if signaling disgust. "Rhonda… I… I have a girlfriend! What are you doing?"

Rhonda looked at the boy's eyes. They were just as she had remembered from her elementary days, still as emotional as ever. Confused and distorted, she ran off into her room and slammed the door. She then pounded the door and cried out, "_Why? Why?! WHY?!"_

A voice was then heard from behind her. "Hey, do you mind?"

She turned around to find Sid and a girl in a cat costume under her blanket but still fully clothed. It was then that she snapped. A fuse in her brain had sparked its last bit of energy and she exploded in anger. "_GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, NOW!_"

Sid and the girl in the feline costume jumped out and rushed towards her door. Rhonda ran out after them and to the living room of her house. She then went behind the DJ booth and unplugged his equipment. The DJ immediately turned around. "What's going on?"

Rhonda dropped the electrical cords and spoke in a deep but strangely mellowed voice. "Everybody, get out of my house."

All the party attendants looked confused at each other as if they didn't here her correctly. She then grabbed hold of a nearby ceramic lamp and smashed it onto her floor. "_GET OUT OF HERE NOW!_"

Everyone rushed out of Rhonda's front door as if she had just set the place on fire. The ceramic lamp laid in scattered pieces across her floor. The DJ started packing up his equipment bitterly. "I'm still getting paid, right? You're not going to cancel my check, are you?"

Rhonda did not answer him, but only stormed back into her now empty room. She collapsed her body on her bed and began to weep heavily into her pillow. _Well, this will make an interesting discussion in therapy_, her mind mocked at her.


	11. Chapter 10: Midnight

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

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Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 10: Midnight

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"And somewhere, way off in the night alone,  
Reflects a brilliant light  
And she smiles because she knows that she is free."  
Diesel Boy - Dragonfly

Dear Diary,

It's the middle of the night but I have to talk to you. I just had a dream and I think I should write it down before I forget it again. It keeps reoccurring, but I don't remember it until I have it again. My grandma always said that in a dream, there is always meaning. Then again, she also was old and senile. All the same, I think I should write it down.

Well, the dream took place a month and a half ago at Rhonda's Halloween party. Why I'm thinking of October in December, I have no idea. I arrived at the party, except this time I wasn't a witch. This time, I was a fairy. I had on a cheap, glittery pair of wings and a little halo-thing. It wasn't really a halo but something like that. Anyway, I showed up, and everyone said hi to me as soon as I stepped in. It was like I was Miss Popular, woman of the hour or something. Everyone I met was smiling and grinning, extending a hand out saying, "Helga! So glad to see you!" It was plain eerie, but I just passed it off as nothing. I made my way through the crowd, and just like in a movie, at the end was Arnold. Arnold wasn't a vampire this time. This time he looked like Rhet Butler from Gone with the Wind. I hate_ that movie! HATE IT! Anyway, I met him and he took my hand, and we started dancing. _ _I don't mean Pulp Fiction dancing; I mean Box Step dancing. Waltzing and junk. We danced for hours, almost endlessly. At the end of it all, we were the only people left at the party. Arnold stopped, bent on one knee, and pulled out a ring. The diamond, I kid you not, was the shape of a damn marble. He asked, "Helga will you marry me?" I hesitated to answer him, but then the lights went out. I was in total darkness for maybe five minutes, looking for Arnold. When the lights came back on, he was gone. I was stranded in what used to be Rhonda's living room, but had morphed into a mansion's ballroom. I wasn't dressed as a fairy anymore. I was in a black dress with a veil over it. I then ran outside to Rhonda's front door, and stopped as soon as I saw a funeral procession traveling down the street. The hearse stopped and two drivers opened the back. They pulled the casket out and opened it to reveal Bob lying inside. One of the drivers threw off her hat to reveal herself to be Miriam. She stomped her foot on the ground and pointed at me, yelling, "You did this! You did this!"_

And that's where I wake up, Diary. It's weird, and what makes it stranger is that I keep having it, scene for scene. Usually, that's when they're supposed to mean something, isn't it? The only thing I can pick up out of it was the Halloween party. That was my greatest moment with Arnold. I still can't forget how after we left the party, I fell asleep on his floor watching TV with him. Waking up and seeing him right across from me, it was like waking up and seeing God right next to you. It was one of those moments where you sit back and think, 'You know what? Life is pretty good.'

Well, Christmas is coming in exactly a week. Christmas Day anyway. Why does anyone even care about Christmas Eve? I mean, yeah, the meaning of the season (Although I heard that the bible says that Jesus was born in April) but you only get to open one present! Sometimes I wish I was Jewish, then I'd get a freakin' week load of presents. I already scoped out my mom and dad's closet and found what I'm getting. Nothing special: a few CD's, a shirt, and some games and DVD's to go with a new PlayStation 2. Yeah, nugget, PlayStation 2. Of course, I get it when it's really old and on sale. But, I get Grand Theft Auto Vice City in the deal so it's no that bad.

I love the snow at midnight. Snow in the dark of night is like…it's almost like a miracle. It's raises somewhat of an inspiration for anything. It falls so calmly to the earth. Even if it were heavily snowing; under the streetlights, it'd still look pretty soft and serene. I love winter. This would be the perfect time to write some poetry, but what else can I say? I've said everything I can say about Arnold in my many volumes of poetry. I can't believe I still have some of them. Wait, I have an idea!

Should I put you down, diary, and switch to another book or should I just write this between your pages?

I need to find a diary with a voice. I gotta go; the muse has just stricken me with inspiration…

…Sometimes I just feel hokey with myself. See ya, Diary.

Helga G. Pataki

***

Helga rustled through her closet searching for an empty book to write in. Millions of them stayed on the floor while she had a box filled with ones just like them. When Office Max has a sale, you take advantage of it. The shrines had vanished. She may still have one in the small attic above her room, but she hadn't tended to it in years.

__

Oh my God, I hope there isn't anything that'll rot up there… like that watermelon did…

She flipped through the pages of book after book, finding nothing but every page with inked or penciled entries. She finally ran across the one she was looking for. The one that had still about twenty pages left in the back. If she remained as consistent as she was back in the fourth grade, those pages could be filled in twenty minutes. But, luckily for her hand, time was now very short usually.

She patted her hand around her to find the pen she had scribbled in her diary with. A cheap, black ballpoint pen can be the best friend of a hopeless lover. She prepped the pen inside of her hand and began to jot down her every thought.

***

Big Bob Pataki tossed and turned inside of his bed until he awoke himself. At first, he lied there staring at the ceiling trying to bore himself to sleep. Right when it had started to work and he had started to doze off, the sound of papers scattering and books being thrown around snapped him back into reality. _What the hell is that?_ he thought to himself. He threw on a large Cotton Terry robe (Free with the purchase of the Tae Bo gift box) and slipped down stairs to find the source of the noise.

On his way down, he mumbled curses at the awakening din. "Ugh, when I find whatever's making that noise, I'm gonna twist it like a pretzel until it can't move to cause it." He reached Helga's room. Opposed to her elementary days, Helga's door was now much more maturely decorated. Bumper stickers littered the surface of the passageway. Cheap little phrases like _'Earth first - We'll screw up the other planets later'; 'I'm goin' nuckin' futs'; _and the everlasting classic: _Proud father of your honor roll student._ With Helga being a female, the sticker didn't make much sense. For some reason, Helga found humor in it either way.

At first he didn't open the door, but waited for the noise to sound again. It had stopped but Bob was about to burst in _ex post facto_. He may be rude, but he wasn't that rude. He creaked Helga's door open a notch and saw his daughter scribbling inside a small book. _What is she doing at this hour?_

Helga began reading her poetry out loud as she scribbled it. "…Forever I am lost in the fluster of the snow / searching for your hand in the night. / Oh, Arnold, my love of so long ago, / I beg that you heed to my plight."

Bob was speechless. _How long has _THIS _been going on?_

She continued, "I still search these streets in the cold of December, / calling for you comfort and aid. / If you forget my affections, then please always remember / how I loved but denied what I said."

__

I have got to start paying more attention to Olga.

"Oh, Arnold. Oh, Arnold! Oh…" Helga turned around to see her dad's face peaking out of the crack of her door. "Dad!"

Bob flung the door opened completely. "How long has _this_ been going on?"

Helga slammed her book closed (as if it mattered at this point). "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough." He allowed himself into his daughter's room. "Isn't Arnold that little adoption case from down the block? The one who lives with his crazy grandparents?"

Helga stood up and pointed at her door. "Get _out_ of my room, Bob!"

"So how long has this whole obsession been going on? I see you have a lot of books over there."

Helga reached out and grabbed her father by the neck of his pajamas. "Get… out… of my _ROOM!_"

"Hey!" Bob shoved his daughter off of him and sent her to the floor. "What do you think you're doing? I was just asking some simple questions…"

"You were just _invading my privacy_! _Get out_!"

"Hey, this is my house, so this is my room! I own this place, I pay rent, and you're so close to getting a boot out the door and into the cold, Olga!"

Helga stood back on her feet. "My name is _HELGA, DAD! HELGA!_ _NOW GET THE HELL OUT OF MY ROOM!_"

Bob stepped back from his daughter. "You have a week, little missy. You have exactly one week to leave my house. Until that time, you stay out of my way." Bob walked out of her room with his hand on her doorknob. "Good-night, _Helga_!" He slammed the door, causing a family portrait on the wall across from the door to fall off and shatter the glass. Bob stormed back into his bed, where Miriam was still asleep despite the ruckus.

***

Helga grabbed her books and threw them back in her closet, mumbling, "God, I hate Bob! I _hate _BOB!" She jammed in everything, packed in like Spam, inside the closet and slammed the door, cracking the wood along the side. She sprawled herself across her bed and reached for her phone.

***

The boy groggily answered the ringing. "Hello?"

The voice on the other phone wasted no time. "Robert, did I wake you? I need your help. Do you have a spare room in your house?"

"Um… yeah… why?"

"Bob is threatening to kick me out, I need a place to stay."

Robert finally came to the realization of what was going on. "Helga? Do you realize what time it is? Do you need to come here now?"

Robert's mother called from down the hallway. "Rob, what's going on?"

Robert placed a hand over the receiver. "It's nothing, mom. Go back to bed." He took his hand off. "What's going on?"

"Bob's kicking me out in a week. I won't survive that long. I need to leave tomorrow. Do you think you could arrange it? I know this asking a lot from you…"

Robert rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I can arrange it. I'll talk to my mom tomorrow, but I can assure you she'll say yes. I have to get back to bed, Helga. I need to work tomorrow."

"Thank you, Rob! Thank you! Oh, God, you don't know how much this means to me!" She paused. "Hey, when did you get a job?"

"I've had one for a while now."

"Oh. How's life treating you?"

"Rhonda's stalking me."

"Oh, really?"

"You know, I've known she's wanted me for so long. For some reason, I guess she doesn't remember fifth grade when she was playing secret admirer with me. Now, she's all crazy about what happened in fourth grade and how we're meant for each other."

"Well, how do you feel about her?"

"I have a girlfriend."

"Yeah, but how do you _feel_ about _her_?"

Robert's brow tightened on his eyes. "I have work, Helga. I need to sleep."

"Okay, okay. Hey, call me tomorrow. We don't talk like we used to."

"Well, I would've thought the first person you would have turned to would be Phoebe."

Helga laughed. "I tried setting that up once a while ago. Trust me, never again."

"Okay, Helga, I gotta go."

Helga was still lightly chuckling. "Yeah, okay. See ya, Robert."

"See ya." Robert hung the phone back on the base. "Well, that was unexpected."


	12. Chapter 11: Walk The Floor

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 11: Walk the Floor

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"I take a step outside and I breathe the air  
And I slam the door and I'm on my way.  
I won't lay no blames, I won't call you names  
'Cause I've made my break and I won't look back.  
I've turned my back on those endless games."  
Queen - Leaving Home Ain't Easy

Arnold and Gerald walked down Main Street in the snow. "So, Gerald, what's your family doing for Christmas?"

Gerald shrugged. "Nothing much. How about you?"

"I don't know. We're not going to be going anywhere. I'll just end up having them unwrap their presents and they'll just go back to bed."

"Wow, you've become the caretaker and Santa. How do ya feel?"

"Like Tim Allen."

Gerald laughed. "Yeah, okay. Thank God school's out. I can't think of what we'd do without this break."

"Man, I remember being a kid and wanting to just run out here with a sled in my hand, aching to just go down the street with it. Now, I just want to do something. I can't do that stuff anymore. It'd be too… _weird_. Just playing outside while kids in elementary school rush past me. It just doesn't feel right anymore." He turned to Gerald. "You know, it's like being a high-schooler means we can't have classic fun anymore. All we can do is throw parties. We can't play in the snow, we can't trick-or-treat…"

"Yeah, but soon school's gonna be out. It's either college or the real world. Which do you choose?"

Arnold kicked a heap of snow by his feet. "I'm trying to get into college. I sent my information to a couple of different ones. Nothing big though, but they'd be far away."

"How far away?" Gerald asked.

"Like Michigan far away."

"Damn!"

"I know." Arnold continued to kick the snow. "I don't want to leave Hillwood behind. I can't expect Grandma and Grandpa to move to Michigan. I may never see any of you people again. Where will you be going?"

"Me? I'm sticking with the real world. My parents can't afford to put me in college… and my grades the past three years haven't been really good either. They really wish there was a way for me to get in college, some sort of scholarship or something, but the chances of that happening are slim to slimmer."

Arnold thought about Gerald's last words for a moment. "Slim to slimmer?"

"The fact is that I'm not gonna be able to go to college, whether I want to or not. Looks like I'm stuck here in this town, old buddy, and I'll miss you."

"Gerald!" Arnold raised his hands. "Dude, that's not cool."

"Hey, but it's honest."

"See, that's one of my reasons of why I don't want to go. I'll be leaving you, the boarding house, all the other kids… I'll be leaving all I've ever known. What if something tragic happens while I'm gone? What if one of my friends gets killed while I'm gone? What if my parents finally reappear and can't find me when they come back? All these odd possibilities could happen."

"Well, whatever happens, it's going to happen anyway, so why fight the inevitable?"

"You believe in fate?"

"Yeah, I do!" Gerald was filled with seriousness, a rare site to Arnold. "I believe that everything that's going to happen has already been mapped out by somebody. No matter how hard we fight to change, in the end it won't matter. We'll just end up with the job and the life that was determined from the day we were born. It's all destiny, man."

Arnold looked at his friend in disbelief. "Nah, I can't agree with you there."

"You gotta think about it, man. What's the purpose of life?"

"Don't ask me these kinds of questions, Gerald."

"I think that life is a play written by God. We run around according to script and at the end, we get to chill in the green room of heaven."

"My religion's been kind of shaky ever since… well, I can't remember."

"Well, Arnold, that's your thing, and I'm respecting that. As for me, I believe in God and fate. If you don't agree, I can't hold that against you." Gerald then came up with a brilliant example. "What about Eugene?"

"What _about_ Eugene?"

"He's been unlucky all of his life. Do you really think that's been all accidental?"

"No, I think he's been jinxed. I don't think every little mishap he gets into has been predetermined."

Gerald sighed. "Well, maybe that's why we've been friends for so long. All this debating can be entertaining for a while."

Arnold looked at his feet. "Yeah." They walked on for a few more steps. "So what do you wanna do?"

"I don't know. What do you wanna do?"

"Hockey?"

Gerald thought. "I don't know about that… I mean sports never die with age. But then again, I think that there's only one brother in the NHL. That might tell something about me. Maybe I wasn't born to play like all you white kids."

Arnold laughed at Gerald's comment. It may have been a tad bit cruel, but it was true. "Do you wanna play or not?"

"Yeah." Gerald and Arnold both stopped walking. "Street or ice?"

"Street."

"Do you want to get the others or should I?"

"I can do it."

"I'll meet you in the alley across from the field in an hour. We'll find a place after that."

"Okay. See ya Gerald."

They both walked their separate ways down the opposite ends of the street.

***

Arnold knocked on the door and patiently waited for a response. He looked around at his neighborhood and started thinking; _This place is friggin' beautiful in the winter._ Something about snow made everything look purer and fresh. It made it look unharmed by the real world. It made everything look innocent. Even if his city were a dirty, broken-down ghetto; the snow would mask all of its ugliness in any condition.

After ten seconds, his knock was finally reciprocated. "Hey, Arnold."

"Hey, Robert. You wanna play hockey?"

Robert clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. "Right now?"

"Not now, in a about an hour or so. Interested?"

Robert looked inside of his house as if for spying eyes, and looked back at Arnold. "In an hour would be good. I have some things I have to attend to. Roller or Ice?"

Arnold tried looking over Robert's shoulder to see inside his house. "Roller hockey. Hey, what's going on right now?"

Robert looked down at his shoelaces. _Wow, I need to clean these dingy things. _"I don't know if I should say. It's kind of personal with her."

"With who?"

A familiar voice shouted from inside of Robert's living room. "Ah, go ahead and tell him. Everyone's bound to find out anyway."

Robert cleared his throat. "Helga got into a fight with her dad last night and was kicked out. She's going to be staying at my house until she finds another place."

Helga walked over beside Robert. Her hair was uncombed and frizzled down her back. "I still have some stuff I need to get from my house. I'll be back in about ten minutes." She walked by, merely passing Arnold off as if he wasn't there.

Arnold stared at her until she was almost a blur of color and back to Robert. "Wow, that's kind of hard to… wow. I can't believe Bob would kick her out."

Robert smirked. "Well, she is Helga and he is Bob. I'm just glad my parents said she could stay. I don't know who else she'd turn to."

"What about Phoebe?"

"She said that she tried something like this with Phoebe but she won't go into detail why she won't do it again."

Arnold sighed, watching his breath fade away into the cold air. "Well, when she comes back, invite her too. The more, the merrier."

Robert nodded in agreement. Sure, he had no idea what he was agreeing to, but in his mind it seemed like a reasonable gesture. "Yeah. Who else is coming?"

"I haven't really talked to anyone else yet." Arnold looked back down the street. "You were the first house I stopped by. But by all means, phone some people, see if the want to play. Make my job a little bit easier."

"Yeah, okay." Robert kept looking back into his house for some reason and it was really starting to irritate Arnold. Helga wasn't even inside his house now, yet he still kept checking in there as if to assure everything was okay. "I should go arrange some of the Helga's stuff. She's bringing over _everything_ of hers. It's all in boxes. I should start putting the boxes in her room or something."

Arnold started to walk off of the stoop. "Well, I hope everything works out with her. We'll meet at the baseball field and then we'll find out where were gonna play. See you at the field?"

"Yeah. See ya, Arnold."

"See ya." Robert walked inside of the doorway and shut his door slowly and silently. Arnold treaded on through the snow-covered sidewalks, still pondering the idea of Bob kicking Helga out. It was like the most obvious act you'd ever suspect to see but never expect it to actually happen.

Robert walked to the middle of his living room where three large 'Folward Facial Tissues' boxes in the center of the room. "Well, damn, Helga. How much stuff do you own?"

He picked up the highest box of the stack and started to carry it to the guestroom. _This thing must way at least fifteen pounds. What is she packing? Cinder blocks? _He walked down the hall to the room. If only he had been more attentive to floor beneath him, he would have seen Helga's duffel bag, the only thing she had actually placed in the room. If only he was watching the floor, he wouldn't have tripped over them.

***

Helga slammed the door of her former home with two large cardboard boxes between her arms. It was the last of her luggage. _Wow, I'll never have to go to this rat hole ever again. I'm free!_ She waked down the stairs, struggling to see the next step, and struggled even harder trying to see in front of her once she reached the bottom. The feeling of leaving was like the feeling of escaping prison. You've finally made you're break, and you'll avoid anyway of being sent back, but yet inside it seems as if you're running away from your problems instead of solving them.

But something seemed wrong. Maybe it was that out of all the people in the world, she was staying at Robert's house. Sure, back in the day they were almost brother and sister, but now it was rare if they even remembered to say hi to each other. Now, his family and him were willing to open the doors to her house for her. His parents didn't even really ask exactly why she had to move; they just greeted her with a smile and a handshake. If she were smart, she would stop questioning it and just accept their generosity.

Helga might be a genius, but she also likes knowing the full story and not just the Readers' Digest edit.

***

Robert stood up from his fall. _Aw, what was that? _He looked down at the ground to find the box he was carrying to still be intact, but pushed in at the top slightly to where he fell. _Ooh, I hope nothing fragile was in there._ It was when he turned around that he was speechless.

The bag he had tripped on had ripped a large hole in the side, spilling out its contents on the rug. Five small books fell out of the slit. "Oh, shit," he panicked. "Helga is gonna kill me!"

He grabbed one of the books in his hands and held it for a moment. _Why would she have so many books like this? Should I?_ It was as if he was a kid who had been left at home with a million presents under the Christmas tree. If you only remove the tape from one side of the package, you could slide the box out of the package to reveal what it was. All you have to do is tape it back up so your parents won't notice. As in the words of Velvet Jones, 'It's a simple as that!'

Robert slowly opened the book's cover, expecting some horrible fume to arise of some kind of Egyptian booby-trap. He turned past one blank page and discovered a slew of scribbling. "Oh my God, its Helga's poetry about Arnold. She never usually openly shares this sort of stuff with me. Sure, she _told_ me about it."

Robert ran his finger over the first sentence on the page and read it aloud at the same time. "Arnold, my darling, my heart does beat for the. / Through the heat from the sun, I find shade under your tree. / Even if you never will see me here, adoring your heart and soul / then I shall die of loneliness, shivering in your cold."

He looked up from the book and to the doorway. "I _really_ shouldn't be reading this."

***

Helga kicked Robert's front door with her foot. Needless to say, knocking with her hands was out of the question. The boxes in her hands kept her at least a foot and a half away from the door. "Robert! Open up!"

Robert immediately opened the front door before Helga could finish her last syllable. "Hi, Helga! Is this it?"

Helga leaned back, backing away from the weirdness of Robert's friendly welcome. "Um… yeah. A little help please."

"Oh! Sure!" Robert grabbed the two boxes out of her hands. Both of them combined weren't as heavy as the one he had carried earlier. _This confirms it; the other box is full of cinder blocks. _He carried them into the guestroom. "I've taken the liberty of moving your other boxes into your room, you don't mind?"

Helga still stood at the doorway, kind of irked by Robert's chipper attitude. "Yeah. Are you okay? You're acting a little… odd…"

Robert reappeared from the spare room. "Oh, I've just finally had the time to wake up. I also had a Yahoo so that caffeine is kicking in. While I was moving your stuff, I tripped on your duffel back and ripped it open." Helga's jaw dripped three feet from her nose. "Don't worry," he assured. Nothing was ruined and nothing fell out. I don't know what you packed in there, but it bruised my ankles pretty bad."

__

Nice lie there, buddy. Do you really think she's gonna fall for it?

Helga's shocked look disappeared and her uneasiness faded slightly. "Well, that's good to know. It has a whole bunch of my books and stuff, nothing interesting. Sorry about your ankles, chief."

Robert paused. "What did you just call me?"

"Chief. You know. It's like buddy, guy, man, et cetera. Chief."

Something was odd about that name, but there was no singling it out. "Alright. Hey, Arnold invited us to play hockey in about a half-hour now. You're invited if you want to play."

Helga walked over to the spare room and opened a box up. "I really should only need about a half-hour to put all this stuff away and get it out of these boxes. Yeah, sure. I'll play."

Robert clapped his hands loudly. "Great! Well, I have some stuff to do. You don't mind if I leave for a little while, do you?"

Helga waved a hand calmly. "Nah, I'll be fine. You do whatever you have to. It's not like I'm gonna _steal_ anything if I'm going to be living here."

Robert finished slipping on his tennis shoes and searched for his winter jacket. Once he found it, and put it on, he called to Helga; "I'll be back in a little bit." He then left the house, leaving Helga alone with her luggage.

***

Robert sat down at a stool in Slausen's, stirring his root beer float back in forth. The waitress (Do ice cream shops have waitresses?) rested her elbows on the counter next to him. "Hey, Robert," said Rhonda.

Rhonda almost gagged, but he hadn't been drinking anything to gag on so it came out as a cough. "When did you start working here?"

"Last month. What's on your mind?"

Robert was still frightened by the fact that this girl had been following him all of November and now was serving him in the ice cream parlor. It was like she had already known where he was going to end up and plotted herself here in advance. "I was actually wondering why an ice cream place would be open in the middle of winter. You'd think they'd shut down this place."

She shook her head. "Believe it or not, we still get pretty busy now. All the franchises like Dairy Queen may not be open, so everyone turns to us. You've hardly touched your float, now what's wrong Robert?"

__

Nothing's wrong, just the fact that my escape from Helga's problems has brought me to you in some odd way. Rhonda rolled her eyes back. "Look, I'm sorry about all the crap I've given you. I was a little… over-reactive and I just wanna say… I'm sorry. Can we call it even and just be friends?"

Rhonda held out a hand to which Robert glared at. He eventually caved in and shook it. "Yeah, we're friends."

Rhonda drummed her hands on the counter rapidly. "Great, then. Well, it's good to get _that_ out of the way. Now what's eatin' ya, Robbie?"

__

What's with all these nicknames? "Eh, nothing really. I just have some problems back at home. Somebody moved in today in our guestroom and… I don't know; there's just this weirdness between us. And we used to be such great friends. I mean we're not enemies, but we're almost strangers."

"Ah…" agreed Rhonda. "I know what you're saying."

"You do?"

Rhonda hesitated. "No, personally I don't. But I can see what it would be like."

Robert buried his face in his arms on the countertop. _Just perfect..._


	13. Chapter 12: Rebuild

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

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CHAPTER 12: Rebuild

________

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"Heated quick, did what I had to do.  
Sat her down, she flipped it around.  
Looked at my eyes, quickly caught the saddened truth."  
Nature - I Don't Give A F**k

The kids had sat down at the curb of the street with their hockey sticks lying besides them. It's amazing how a little police caution tape can stop cars from going down any street. It still was tied up between two lampposts at the both ends of the street. Arnold knocked his roller blades up with the back wheel and break leaning on the pavement. "Hey, thanks for the "Do not enter" tape. I didn't think it would work."

Helga nodded. "Yeah, it was pretty easy. I've had that crap since fourth grade. Got it from a cop on career day."

Gerald wiped his heat off. "Yeah, I remember that. Wow, that was a long time ago."

Sid let out, "That was an effin' awesome game back there." Back in seventh grade, hearing Sid say 'wicked awesome' all the time (and 'boy howdy') became kind of annoying. When told about it, Sid had started saying 'fucking awesome'. After a while, it started to become annoying hearing Sid swearing twenty times a day. Of course, Arnold clued the boy into the aggravation he was causing, and Sid started to just say "eff" instead of saying that actual curse word he had become accustomed to.

Sid, Stinky, Helga, Arnold, Harold, Gerald, Robert and Park all sat at the curb in their winter jackets and gloves. Stinky finally spoke up; "Hey, why didn't we ask Eugene to play?"

Sid answered, "Because, Stinky, he'd just get hurt. We're actually doing him a favor when you think about it."

Helga kicked a pebble on the ground. "Next time, I'll waste you Arnold."

Arnold smirked. "Yeah, sure thing."

Gerald laughed out loud and slapped a hand on his knee. "Helga, you are never gonna be able to beat this boy! You never've been able to!"

Helga crossed her arms. _If only you knew, Hair Boy. If you only knew that I've thrown every game since I was six to let Arnold win._

Gerald and Arnold did their little "thumb-shake" and Arnold turned to Helga. "You played good today. Good game."

Helga shook his hand annoyed. "Yeah, yeah, great game. I almost had you though."

Gerald spoke out, "Helga, 'ain't no such thing as half-way crooks'."

Everybody diverted their attention to Gerald. Park broke the silence. "What does _that_ mean?"

"I don't know. It's part of a Mobb Deep song. 'Son, they shook, 'cause ain't no such thing as half-way crooks…'"

Park sat confused. "Okay then…"

"It's a rap song, man. Just an old rap song."

The group sat there. Robert finally decided to chip into the conversation. "So what now?"

They sat there thinking. Arnold rubbed his hands together. "Well, how about…"

Helga interrupted him. "Hey, we _always_ do what you wanna do. Let someone else have a chance!"

They sat quiet. Harold looked at his watch. "Aw, man! I'm late! I was supposed to be home by six!"

Sid laughed. "You have a curfew, man? My mom just let's me go out until I come back."

Harold punched Sid in the arm. "It's not a curfew! My favorite cartoon show is on!"

Arnold looked puzzled. "You still watch cartoons?"

"Yeah, I do! They're having a 'Shindig Buggy' marathon on Cartoon Central!"

Park scratched his head. "Wait a minute, isn't that the new cartoon by the Frederick Thomas? I don't like it as much as I did 'Ross and Co.' If only he could've kept doing that one forever…"

Sid placed a hand at Park's mouth. "We've heard it all before, Park. We don't need a recap."

Harold stood up. "Well, I gotta go, guys! See ya!" He then took off down the street, is what looked like an attempt to run. The seven kids now sat there alone.

Arnold came up with a solution. "Let's all just go home or something. I can't think of anything. Winter vacation sucks."

Helga's eyes opened wide. _Has he ever said that before? I don't think I've ever heard Arnold saying anything 'sucked'._ "I don't know. I don't wanna go in just yet. It's still bright tonight. I just don't want to be stuck inside all night, and it has nothing to do with you, Robert."

Robert lifted a hand. "I know, I know."

Sid, Stinky and Park then stood up. Stink gave a small wave. "Well, we'll see you fellers later, on account of it's getting' mighty borin' jawin' with ya on this curb."

Sid followed it up with; "Yeah, but me and Stinky will go over to the ends of the street and remove that police tape. See you guys." Sid walked one way to the right of Arnold and the others while Stinky and Park walked the other. Now only Gerald, Arnold, Robert and Helga sat at the curb.

Robert stood up finally. "Well, I should probably go in to. The door will be unlocked, Helga. Just let yourself in from now on. I'll work on getting you a copy of the key."

Helga talked up to him as he walked by. "You do that. Thanks."

In the distance, Arnold could see Sid taking down the police tape from the lampposts. _That was probably the smartest idea ever,_ he thought to himself. It didn't take a lot of skill to realize you could do that, but at the moment it was the craftiest thing he had ever seen.

Gerald stood up. "I'm gonna have to agree with Stinky. It is kind of boring sitting here talking. I'm gonna go home and see what my family's up to. One more week 'til Christmas, buddy." Gerald pointed both of his index fingers like pistols at Arnold.

Arnold pointed back. "See ya, Gerald." Arnold turned to Helga. "So how have you been?"

Helga nodded. "Good. I've been… good."

"Really?"

"No, it's been terrible."

Arnold lowered his head down. "Yeah, I heard you were kicked out."

"You don't have to refresh me, football-head. I was there if you don't remember."

"Oh, yeah. You were in Robert's living room."

"Yeah." Helga kicked a tiny pebble from the curb across the slushy road to a snow bank. "That would be how it goes. That's how it always has been."

Arnold placed a hand on Helga's shoulder closest to him. Helga shivered at the feel of his hand. "It'll all work out, Helga. Don't worry about it."

She moved her shoulders to knock Arnold's hand off. She spoke calmly and mellow; "Don't touch me like that without warning me."

Arnold placed his hands by his side. "Sorry about that. It's just a habit."

"Well, you need to break that habit."

Arnold changed the subject. "You wanna do something? We got the rest of the day. My grandparents don't usually eat dinner and the other boarders usually take it on independently to feed themselves. When Grandma stopped cooking, they started buying their own dinners. None of them ever complain, though."

Helga stood up. "Well, what did you have in mind?"

***

The room was bigger than a movie theatre, and that was only the center of all of it. Arcade games littered the walls throughout the entire building. Hallways led to other smaller rooms filled with more and more games, novelty booths, and other such things. It was like an arcade times forty-seven plus a pool table. Equal it all up on your calculator, kiddies, and you get 'High Stakes Arcade Hall'.

The original arcade that they had played in as kids still stood, but when this place opened, it lost a _lot_ of customers. The slogan of High Stakes told no lies: "You'll never play the same way again." The arcade was the only real hang out spot besides Slausen's, the coffee shop, and the little restaurant down in the neighborhood. Besides, 'Wally's Wonderful World' was a little outdated for high school students.

Helga slammed down buttons by a joystick, forcing a large Chinese man with no hair to jump kick what looked like a wolf. The game was projected on to a screen that was almost eight feet wide and seven feet tall. Whatever the game was called, Helga was starting to love it. Arnold came up behind her with a cup filled with Yahoo. "How's it going."

Helga never took her eyes off the screen. "I'm giving this computer a red-ass beat down! Hey, thanks Arnold. I really appreciate this." The Chinese man jumped in slow motion, grabbed the wolf between his legs, dropped to the ground and flipped it over breaking it's neck. Helga raised her hands up in celebration. "Yes!"

"So, you're having a good time?"

"Time of my life, Arnold." She prepped herself to the controls. _…And I've never felt this way before… I swear… it's the truth… Why is it that every girl knows the words to the song from 'Dirty Dancing'?_

Arnold placed his cup down on a stool next to the controls. Helga could've been sitting down while she was playing, but that wouldn't be any fun! You want pizza or something?"

Helga's new challenge was a burly German with robotic arms. "Arnold, you're starting to make this sound like a date." _You wish, Helga ol' girl._

"Nah, it's just a little something to make you feel better. I called my Grandparents and they're not going to be eating dinner. I figured I might as well have dinner and if you're with me, why not share?"

The Chinese man grabbed the German by the legs and swung him around in the air, dropping him on the ground with a trembling thud. "Well, since you're paying for all of this, I might as well not look a gift horse in the mouth. Is that what the saying is, a gift horse? What is a gift horse anyway?"

"I think it's a saying from old." Arnold picked his cup back up and sipped. "What do you want on it? Pepperoni? Bacon? Mushrooms?"

"How about half and half. I don't want to ruin your night just because of my poor taste. How about just Pepperoni and Bacon on one side and whatever you want on the other."

"No mushrooms or anything?"

"God, what is it with you and mushrooms?" The Chinese man moved in slow motion again, ripping the arms off of the German man. "No, I'll be fine. When it comes to pizza, I'm straight up carnivorous. All the other stuff became annoying after a while."

"Okay. I'll go order it. Meet me at the table over by the racing game. The one with the booth that suspends you in the air when you play."

"_That_ was a good one. Alright, I'll meet you there in a minute." The screen flashed 'You are the champion of DEADLY TOURNAMENT! Enter your name for the records.' Helga glazed at the screen bewildered. "Wow, I've never actually beaten anything in the arcade before."

Arnold took a sip of his drink again. "Maybe things are starting to work out for you."

Helga maneuvered the joystick and buttons until the entry read Ol' Betsy. She turned around to Arnold. "Looks like I'll be joining you a lot sooner. Let's go get that pizza."

Helga walked through the crowded arcade behind Arnold, wishing she could at least hug him to express how much she loved him right now. Keeping a secret is hard work, and psychologically it's nerve wrecking. Then she scoped a bathroom to the right of her. "Arnold, I'll be right back. I'll meet you at the table."

Arnold glanced behind him. "Okay. See ya there."

Helga rushed inside of the ladies' room. She ran inside ducking; making sure there was nobody inside of the stalls. Only one other person was inside, but the shoes visible at the bottom of the door looked oddly familiar. A familiar breathing also lingered in the room.

Helga busted the door open. "Brainy, what are you doing in a girl's bathroom?"

The heavy-breathing teen stood in fright of the yellow haired girl in front of him. Helga pulled him out of the stall. "Are you following me? Everywhere I go and want some privacy, you're there!"

Brainy's nasally breathing continued. "Uh… uh… I'm not following you."

"Then what are you doing?"

"Um… uh… hiding."

"From what?"

"Uh… uh… uh…"

"_CAN YOU STOP THAT?_" Helga screamed at him.

"A girl."

"What girl?"

Brainy hesitated. "I can't tell you."

Helga crossed her arms. "Why can't you tell me?"

"Because."

"Is it Sheena?"

"No."

"Nadine?"

"No."

"Rhonda?"

"No."

"Lila?"

"_Oh, no!_"

Helga grabbed Brainy by his shirt collar. "Well, whoever she is, you're just going to have to deal with it."

Helga escorted the four-eyed boy to the door where she threw him out. Helga pounded on the door as soon as he got to his feet. "Help me! Help meeee!"

A female voice was heard from far behind him. "Brainy? Brainy! _BRAINY!_"

Helga turned around to see Her chasing him. He quickly bolted out of the closest emergency exit he could find.

Helga stood looking at herself in the mirror over the sink. She then pulled out her locket. "_Oh, Arnold! Oh, love of my life! Soon I shall dine with you at your expense over pizza! Shall I confess tonight? Tonight of all night should make the evening close perfectly, me telling the love of my life my deepest and longest kept secret! My love, my darling, my loveable do-gooder! Oh, Arnold! Arnold!_"

She placed the locket back in her pocket and sighed. "Ah, I feel _much _better." She made sure her hair was perfect (As she usually thought it was) and walked out of the door. She then searched for her football-headed friend.

***

"How's your pizza?" Arnold asked her.

The pie had been topped completely with pepperoni; one side had bacon and the other had mushrooms (_Arnold and his friggin' mushrooms_). "It's good. I've had better, but the atmosphere makes it all better."

"Yeah, I guess so." He took a bite off of the piece in front of him. "So… read any good books lately?"

Helga let out a small chuckle. It was one of those funny little moments where this corny phrase smacks you in the face. It just goes to show that you should pay attention to the ball when you're standing in left field. "Actually, yeah. _High Fidelity_."

"Huh. I think I saw the movie to that." He sipped off of his near by soda. "I think it had John Cusak in it and that fat guy from Orange County."

Helga nodded. "Yeah, Jack Black. That inspired me to read it. I finished that book a while ago. A long time ago, before Halloween."

"Oh, yeah, you were reading that on the first day of school."

Helga suddenly realized that she was having dinner with Arnold. That harsh reality sometimes sets in, and just punches you out of your chair. She shook her head and snapped out of it. _Don't lose it, Helga. You're here casually as a friend to a friend._ "Yeah. The movie was a pretty different. See the author of the book was British, so the book takes place in England and has a lot of British slang in it. Like, they don't say 'bullshit.' Instead, they say 'bullocks' which I guess in Britain is almost the same or something."

Arnold put his slice of pizza down after he had bitten it. "You know, all my life I've told to read and that reading is better than watching movies. Yet every book I've ever read is more vulgar than any R-rated movie I've ever seen! Have you ever read _Ordinary People_ by Judith Guest?"

"No."

"Don't even bother. It's _so_ terrible. The book swears almost every chapter, and usually pretty graphically. It's all about this kid who tried committing suicide and came back to his family after have been treated in a hospital for it. The whole book is about him seeing a shrink and his mom going crazy from it… it's so incredibly terrible. Don't _ever_ read it."

"I didn't plan on it." Helga took a sip of her cup. "I have my reading schedule tied up already. I own about twenty books I haven't read yet."

"Ah." The silence between them started to build. "Well, what do you wanna do after this?"

"I figured I'd just go home. I don't want to waste too much of your time. Hey, don't you have a job to go to tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I do." He grabbed a napkin from a nearby dispenser.

"You know, anytime I meet you, you always have free time. I've never seen you actually having to go to work. Every time I see you it's 'Hey, Party!'"

Arnold shrugged. "I have lousy hours but it's decent pay. I helps keep my grandparents happy."

"Well, that's nice." _Aww, poor Grandpa,_ Helga thought sarcastically. "I'm gonna need to find a job. I don't think I can live with Robert forever. I'm gonna need to find my own place and be able to afford it."

"What about college?"

"I recently applied to a few places. I know I won't get in, my grades are too low. I have I think a GPA of 2.9. That's just pathetic. The art school might let me in?"

"Pittsburgh?"

"Maybe, I'm not sure. That's really the only one I wanted to go to anyway. So far, I haven't heard any word back. I mean they'll write back if I'm rejected, right?"

"Yeah, they usually do." Arnold finished his piece of pizza, leaving only the crust. Eating it would be just more filling. "Do you want to play a game or something?"

"Yeah, in a minute. Let me sit for a while."

***

Bob sat in his reclining chair, alone. Miriam lay on the kitchen table sleeping on her crossed arms. The TV glowed, watching him instead of vice versa. The regret of kicking out his only remaining daughter to live in his house now made everything seem boring and pointless. Miriam wasn't a companion. Miriam couldn't stay awake for five minutes. How could someone who sleeps all day be so tired?

He shut off the television and crawled up to his bedroom. Miriam could stay at the table. Waking her up would just start a fight.


	14. Chapter 13: 'Tis the Season

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

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Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

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CHAPTER 13: 'Tis the Season

________

__

"You know that saying 'If you can't join 'em, beat 'em…'"  
Method Man - Buck 50

Arnold woke up on his couch. He had been awake until four o'clock in the morning fixing his living room up. His grandparents weren't even going to try doing some Fourth of July stuff or anything unseasonal. When he hit sixth grade, holidays became holidays on the dates that they happened. Christmas now was more of a moment for his grandparents rather than for him. It would bring back memories of old and all those old memories-turned-lies that get brought up during these times. 'Oh, I remember ninety-seven years ago, we had a storm come through here that shook the whole town off its foundations! It was a mighty tornado, and the only way to stop it was to clog the eye of it with our huge Christmas tree!'

With the money from his job, Arnold was able to get a few things for his grandparents. A teapot, socks, sweaters; stuff like that. What else could he get them? They're almost permanently bedridden and never have enough energy to do anything by themselves. They actually needed sweaters and stuff for the winter. December is a harsh month on an old body, and the heater in the boarding house won't keep them warm all the time. The thing breaks every other week. 

The sudden minute preparation was only a fluke. Christmas Eve isn't really when you're supposed to get a tree and decorate. If he had the stuff up three weeks before like everyone else, his grandparents would know before hand. They may not remember seeing it fifteen minutes later, but they would've seen it nevertheless. It's all personal to Arnold. _It's for them anyway; I might as well make it special for them some how. It's better than not doing anything at all._

The time was ten o'clock. Ten o'clock on Christmas morning and Arnold was the only one awake. By now, Oskar would have already opened every package and checked it's contents. Nobody bought him anything (except for Suzie) so Oskar would search the presents, find what he wanted, and replace the contents with something cheaper. Arnold opened a PlayStation box one year and found a deck of used playing cards. The whole set of fifty-two cards weren't even in the box. ("Oh, look, here is your PlayStation, Arnold! I guess someone must have snuck it in my room since I had nothing to do with it. Heh-heh… Hey, since I found it, do you think I could keep it?")

Arnold searched around his kitchen but still no sign of life. It was as if someone had set everyone's clock back and no one knew it was even Christmas. Or maybe they all organized and went out for breakfast at the local waffle shop. The boarding house was silent. Even Grandpa wasn't snoring, which was an odd coincidence. Grandpa could snore and shatter windows three blocks away. He could snore through a nuclear war and not even be phased when he wakes up and finds his body glowing in radiation. 

There was a slight noise then heard from upstairs. It sounded like it was coming from his room. _Who would be up there? _Arnold started to slowly walk up the stairs. The pull down walkway to Arnold's room was opened. It wasn't opened the night before.

***

Robert shook Helga awake. "Hey! Hey, Helga! It's Christmas! Wake up!"

Helga blinked in a sleepy haze. "What do you want?"

"It's Christmas, Helga. Presents, breakfast, all of that junk. Don't you want to see what we got you?"

"You actually bought me something?" Helga sat up in the bed. She wore a flannel shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Her regular pajamas had been _really_ dirty. "Well, um… thank you?"

"Not just me. My parents also bought you a few things, since you're a resident in this house and all. It was only right to get you something."

"Oh…" Helga rubbed her head. _Aw, now I owe them! _"I'm so sorry. I didn't get any of you anything."

"I know. You don't have a job yet. It's okay, Helga." He turned to the doorway and back at Helga. "We're all waiting for you."

She stepped out of the bed and stretched. "Okay. Give me a minute. I don't want to come out looking like this." She moved her hands in front of her as to display her tacky attire.

Robert nodded. "That's alright. We'll be waiting. We're all in the living room when you feel like it." With that, he left the room.

Helga called out to him, although he already had left. "Give me five minutes, Robbie. I'll be out there in a little bit."

***

He unwrapped the present. "Merry Christmas, son!" the happy father exclaimed. "It's the new Michael Crichton novel!"

Peapod Kid looked up angrily from the book's cover.

***

Sid placed his fork back down on his empty plate. "Breakfast was great, dad. Thanks for all the presents!"

His father stared at his own empty plate. "Oh, thanks son." His voice had a gloom depression inside of its usual pessimistic tone. "I just wish… your mom were here."

"Oh, come on, dad!" Sid pounded his fist on the table. "She died years ago! Get over it!"

Sid's dad placed his hands over his face. His sobbing seemed a little too melodramatic to feel sympathy for. "Sid, I'm gonna go upstairs for a minute. Don't disturb me." He pulled his chair away from the table, moving his hands away to show his tear-streaked face. "I'm glad you enjoy your presents." He pushed his vacant chair under the kitchen table.

Sid circled his finger in a ring left by a coffee mug on the table. He knew what his father was going to do. He'd sit up there crying to nothing, yell at a picture of his wife expecting a response, and fall asleep until seven o'clock at night. Then he'd cook dinner and repeat the cycle. This isn't a very frequent pattern; it's just unusually strong on holidays. Eventually later on in the week, he'll collect himself and be the same person he always was. Sometimes Sid just wished that his dad would shoot himself and do everyone a favor. It'll just become worse around New Years.

Sid's presents had been pretty good. He only had three presents but they were all he needed: a computer (His other had crashed during an electrical storm. It had been obsolete since 1987 anyway.), new shows (Is it bad when you can pull the heel five inches away from the sole?), and a CD player (MP3 compatible, to go right with the burner in the computer. Dude, you're getting a Dell!).

Sid picked up his and his father's plate and put them in the sink. He might as well hook that new computer up. What else will he do until dinner? Maybe he could find some chum to play battleship with or something. It beat sitting at the table and waiting for dinner.

***

Brainy answered the knocking at his door. When he opened it, nobody was there. A rectangular box with reflective wrapping paper lay on his doorstep. A huge, corny red ribbon was tied in an exaggerated bow on top of the box. A single tag taped to the side of it stood out. "To: Brandon 'Brainy' Pollock / From: You Know Who".

Of course he knew who. The girl who chases him everywhere he goes. The one he least expected. It was the splinter under his thumbnail that was stuck in forever. No pair of tweezers could pull _that_ out.

Brainy opened the package and found a two items: one picture frame with the girl's photograph already inside and a red winter hat. The hat had no sort of writing or obtrusive logo on it. It was just plain, ordinary red. It wasn't much of a present, but what can you expect from a stalker?

Brainy closed the door to his home, knocking the snow from the structure above it onto the stoop. Maybe he'll thank her next time he sees her. He'll be sure to say it while he's running away tomorrow.

***

Rhonda: she received a new car, three hundred dollars cash, and many gift certificates for apparel shops in the mall. Enough said, if not too much already.

***

Lila forgot about Christmas. Her dad had been working everyday for almost three months but yet there was still not enough money for anything but rent and food. How to get out of a situation like this? Empty promises. '_Oh, sweetie, we'll have Christmas in January. I'll have enough money for presents next year._' '_Christmas?_' To all who say that kids have forgotten what Christmas is about, tell that to Lila. Presents have eluded her for years no matter her dad's efforts. All she's done for the past is spent it with her father as much as she could and remind her self what the reason of Christmas was. This was just the rerun of 'A Lila Christmas'.

The self-rehabilitation has been working so far. Lila hasn't smoked pot, done ecstasy, or any of that other junk she used to. She's becoming more aware, more into the real world. She's starting to remember things. Waking up is actually enjoyable now. She actually dresses herself everyday and doesn't sleep in her clothes for weeks on end anymore. She lost weight from when she was pregnant and was back to a normal and standard size. She was giving herself something to be proud of again, something to motivate staying alive.

Until her father came home, she sat in the living room working on a latch-hook rug. It had been a Christmas present (From January. The only reason she actually received the present is because her father received it from a co-worker for free. It's amazing what people will just give away.

Two years and all she had only been halfway done. The image was supposed to be the cartoon cat Garfield popping out of a Christmas wreath with a Santa hat on. All she had was his paw popping from out the bottom of the leafy circle. The rug took longer than it looked like. One ten-by-ten square of the rug's pattern usually took an hour to complete. Multiply that ninety or so and you have an approximated time of how long it would take to finish the entire rug. After that, hang it and look at it for only one moth of the year. Sometimes she forgot why she'd pull the thing out at all, but the answers always seem to tap on her should: _boredom, family, and determination._ Passing the time is not an easy task when you have no major responsibilities in your life

__

It's time we got ready for the real world. Yeah, we gotta grow up…

At nine o'clock in the evening, Lila's father would stumble in the door with a surprise. He'd have a giant, stuffed teddy bear that he bought with earnings from a lunchtime poker game. Her only pleasant surprise of the whole day: what someone else would consider the norm. She'd take the bear from her dad's arms, give him a giant hug, and go upstairs with her new found happiness. The bear will remain unnamed. She'll prop it inside an old child's chair in her room to where it will keep her company every night.

***

Helga scratched her back as she entered the living room. She was fully dressed as if ready to spring on the day running, but her eyes and overall facial expression gave the illusion that she was still asleep. She yawned and greeted her landlords. "Hello, everybody."

Robert's mother smiled and nodded from the living room couch. "Good morning there, Helga! Breakfast? We saved you some."

Robert's father grinned at her from the kitchen and lifted up a plate of eggs, hash browns and bacon. Helga held a hand up. "Maybe a little bit later. I'll take some tea if you have it."

Robert's father put the plate down and on the counter. Robert sat next to his mother on the couch. "Yeah, but it'll take a while. We have coffee already brewing, though, if you want some."

Helga shuttered at the thought of his suggestion. "No thanks, I'll take tea. I can boil the water if you want."

As she started to walk towards the kitchen, Robert's father started walking out and stopped her. "No, it's okay, I can do it. You're our guest. You just relax and open your presents."

Helga looked Robert's father in the face and started to realize how much him and his son look alike. "Okay. Thank you very much."

He went back inside the kitchen. "No problem. You just go open your presents."

Robert's family seemed almost like a fairy-tale or urban legend. Nobody is this nice and generous, or is it everyone is this way? Maybe she just grew up in a dysfunctional home. Maybe there is no standard of living, but just an average lifestyle that people like to hold themselves up to live by.

Helga took a seat next to Robert, leaving no more room on the three-seat couch. If Robert's dad should come in, he could sit in the recliner in the corner of the room. She rubbed her hands together, still coping with the kindness of this family. "So… Merry Christmas… you guys."

Robert's mom put her hands on her knees. "Well, Merry Christmas to you too. We've been waiting for you to wake up to open presents all morning."

Robert turned to Helga with a mocking seriousness. "Yeah, Helga! Why'd you make us wait so long?"

The most she could do was let out a small laugh. _It's too early for this, but still just the appropriate time_. "You've been waiting for me all morning? It's almost the afternoon and you've all sat here waiting for me to wake up to open _your_ presents?"

Robert's mom nodded. "It was the only courteous thing to do. If we opened _our_ presents without you opening _yours_, it would make you feel awkward opening yours all by yourself. We want you to feel as comfortable as possible."

__

Well, thanks for the effort. Didn't really help_. In fact, giving presents is making me feel awkward. _ "Well, thank you _so_ much. I'm so sorry I couldn't get any of you anything."

His mom flapped her arms, dismissing Helga's statement. "Oh, don't even worry about it. As long as you live here, we consider you a member of our family."

A whistling was heard from the kitchen and was quickly silenced. Robert's father called to the living room. "I'll have your tea in a minute! Earl Grey or Chai Spice?"

"Chai Spice." _Go Helga! _"So… I don't want to sound greedy but… since I'm up, when do we open presents."

Robert's mom pointed a hand towards the tree. "Oh, Robbie, can you play Santa? Can you just bring all these presents over here? We can hand them out when your father's done in the kitchen."

Robert stood up off the couch and towards the tree. As he walked across the room, Robert's dad walked in with a mug of tea and a sugar bowl. "Do you want crème?"

"No, I'll be fine. Thank you."

"Ah, it's no problem." As predicted, the father sat down in the recliner chair in the corner. "Hurry up, Rob."

Robert hauled armfuls of presents over to the corner of the couch. _Usually it's a free for all. Why should things be different for Helga?_ His mind races trivial thoughts like these, yet they all end in the same answer: _She's our guest and it's only right that we give her our hospitality. Right now, routine is of the past and organization is the now. _Five trips, back and forth, and Robert was finished with the pile of gifts that had been lying under the tree. He then passed one to his mom. "Here, pass this down to dad."

In a Norman Rockwell moment, they all sat there like a family accepting gifts. They graciously waited for one person to open a package before they ripped at the wrapping on theirs. These parents hadn't known more than Helga's name and yet, they spent their money on Christmas gifts for her. They hadn't even known how rotten of a kid she had been at home. They didn't know her past, but they didn't care either. They lived with what was going on in the moment, and it was good. It's an amiable trait hard to find, but cherished when it stumbles in on you.

***

__

Who is in my room? What if it's a thief? What if it's a mass murderer who has already taken out the rest of the boarding house and left me as a lone survivor? Arnold backed down from his own thoughts and stared at his steps. _What if I'm just really paranoid? _If it were a burglar, most likely they would've stricken last night. That way, if there had been little kids in the house, they could've said they were Santa or something. Little kids will believe anything. You could sell them oil in a soda bottle and they'd drink it with a smile. As for a mass murderer, Arnold would've heard something by now.

He slowly took the walkway step by step. He had nothing to be afraid of. He knew he had nothing to be afraid of. Yet, for some reason, there was a feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him that something was waiting for him upstairs. His walkway had been pushed up into the ceiling last night; he knew that for sure.

__

What if I'm mistaken? What if I did_ leave it open?_

He opened the door quickly, stepped back with his eyes shut tightly, and slowly opened them to reveal the mystery behind his door.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS, ARNOLD!"

Everyone was up there. Grandma and Grandpa where sitting on his bed, still waving their arms about in celebration. Ernie was there too (and with a shirt on, _finally!_). So were Mr. Hyunh, Suzie, and Oskar. Oskar, of course, was scooping out what he wanted to stash in his pockets before he would leave the room. Arnold stood in surprise, yet still unsure what the whole point of this was. "Um, Merry Christmas to you guys too. You hid in my room to do this?"

Grandpa raised a finger. "No, we did this for another reason, short man." He started to trail off in his own thoughts. "You know, since you're a lot older, I probably shouldn't keep calling you short man… ah, what the hey. Short man, everyone here pooled their money together-"

Ernie interrupted, "Except for Oskar."

"-And they all bought you something."

Arnold will still confused to as of what was going on. "Well, why?"

Grandpa slapped his hand on his own knee. "Are you not aware of how valuable you are to this whole building? If it wasn't for you, I'd probably be buried and all these other shmucks would be living in a run-down apartment complex on the other side of town!"

Mr. Hyunh stood forward. "Yes, Arnold. You do so much around here and we hardly ever thank you."

Arnold looked at his feet. "I don't do _that_ much."

"Not that much!" his Grandfather raged. "Look at that tree down there! That wasn't there yesterday! This happens every year, Arnold. Yours is a thankless job with no rewards, yet everyday you continue to put everybody else's happiness in front of your own. You disserve this present, Arnold. It's time."

Arnold smiled and looked back at the boarders. "Well, your welcome I guess, and thanks. What did you get me that was so important you had to sneak in my room to tell me all of this?"

Phil looked over at his wife. "Pookie, would you like to do the honors?"

Arnold's grandmother waved the boy towards here. "Come here, Arnold."

The football-headed teen moved over to his bed. He bent down to reach eye level with his Grandmother. "What is it, Grandma?"

The old lady was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a sweater. She reached inside of her pocket and produced a pair of car keys. "I want you to go outside to the back of the house and go inside of the garage. Your present's in there."

Arnold looked at the keys, which she placed in his hand. "What about the Packard?"

Grandpa answered his question, "Honestly, I don't care what you do with that old scrap pile. Sell it, keep it, give it away."

"I can't sell it. It's too… you know… it's your car. You've had it for years."

Phil looked up at his grandson. "Nothing lasts forever, Arnold."

Arnold looked back at the keys. "What kind of car is it?"

His grandfather smiled. "Well, if I told you, it would take away the surprise! Let's just say it'll make you forget all about that green clunker out there. Merry Christmas, Arnold."

Arnold threw his arms around his grandparents. "Thanks, guys." He pulled his arms back and looked at the other boarders. "Thanks."

Oskar flapped his hands in a modest gesture. "No problem, Arnold. You can always count on us."

"Oskar, put it back."

"Put what back?"

"Just put it back."

Oskar reached inside of his pocket and pulled out a portable CD player. "Oh, look! This somehow must've slipped inside of my pocket! What an unfortunate mistake! Heh-heh."

Arnold narrowed his eyes at the cheapskate as he slowly put the CD player on a shelf and backed away. "Thanks, everyone. I'm gonna go look outside and look at my car." He pointed a finger at Suzie. "Make sure Oskar doesn't try to take anymore of my stuff."

Suzie nodded at him. "You go on and enjoy your present."

***

"Wow… thank you so much." Helga stared at the pile of presents she had opened. "You really don't know… wow. Thank you _so_ much!"

Robert's father leaned forward and smiled at her. "It's alright. It was the least we could do."

"You've done too much for me already." Helga smiled at her gifts. "Thank you so much though."

She did get some good gifts though. Robert's father bought her a jacket. His son had been told some time ago (plus it's not really hard to tell) that her favorite color was pink, so of course the coat was pink. Pink wasn't really her favorite color, but the jacket was great anyway. It wasn't a bright pink, but a darker one that she did like. Along with the jacket, their had been another part to his present. In an inside pocket, she found a movie (they were some pretty wide pockets). _The Very Thought of You_. Robert had explained when she found it, "I know you've probably never heard of it, but it's really good. Kind of a chick-flick, but then again, you're a chick. Plus, if it earns my respect, it's pretty good."

Robert's mother's gifts had been fair, but not the kind of thing you turn away. His mother had bought her a new CD player. That blew Helga away. For one gift, a complete stranger bought her a something that cost almost sixty dollars. That, plus the jacket and video probably already cost eighty or so. Then to add to that, his mom bought her a red hooded sweater. Just more money being tossed on a stranger.

Robert's gifts had been okay too. A scarf, a hat, gloves, and some bath lotion stuff. This usually seems to be a fallback present. Whenever you run out ideas, just buy her bath lotion! No girl is immune to its fragrant charm! Twenty bucks and you got a pretty decent present!

She looked around the room to the family circling her. "Well, I think I should go out and try all this winter stuff you bought me. You guys won't mind, will you?"

Robert's mom responded, "Go right ahead! Have a great day, Helga."

She grabbed the jacket and put her arms through the sleeves. "You wanna come with me, Robert?"

Robert clapped his hands together. "Yeah, sure, why not. Thanks for all the presents, mom."

He hugged his mother and she hugged him back. "Your welcome, Rob. You go outside with your friend."

***

Olga sipped from a mug of coffee. Mascara ran from her eyes, showing that she had been crying before she arrived at her parents' house. A little two-year-old girl pulled at the end of her dress lying off the side of the chair. "Thank you for inviting me over for Christmas. Where's my little baby sister?"

Miriam rubbed her head at a headache. "Well, her and Bob had a fight and Helga ended up having to leave."

Olga stopped drinking and swallowed what was in her mouth. "What do you mean she had a fight? Helga left home?"

Bob's hands rested on the arms of his chair. His voice was depressed and his face was stony and solid. "I threw her out. I had been sick of her attitude."

Miriam placed her hand back at her side. "Bob, have you taken back those presents yet? If she doesn't live her anymore, why do we still have them in our closet?"

"I don't know… maybe she'll come back."

Olga's eyes widened in excitement. "You really think so?"

Miriam stood up off the couch. "Now, B, you told me you were going to take that stuff back! Face it, she's not coming back. She can't come back!"

Bob pounded his fist on the side of his recliner. "It can happen, Miriam! She's a teenager! Teenagers can't keep their mind made up for three seconds. She's fickle!"

"You kicked her out, B!" Miriam yelled. "She didn't decide to leave, you threw her out! How's she going to change her mind when you made it for her?"

Big Bob rubbed his hands across his face. He had been a wreck ever since she left. Johnson had been in charge of his Beeper store for the last week. He hadn't even been in to say hi. Bob opened a gap in his fingers and saw Olga grabbing for her baby daughter and holding her in her arms. He placed his hands back on the recliner. "Look, she'll come back eventually. I know my Helga. We've had our differences but-"

Miriam stomped her foot down and growled. "B, when you can face reality, come see me. I'll be up stairs sleeping." With that, she stomped up the stairs and slammed the door to her room.

Bob looked over at his only remaining daughter. "What do you think, Olga? Do you think she'll come back?"

Olga placed her daughter back on the carpet. "I hope so, dad."

"How's my Granddaughter?"

"Oh, Vicki's just fine. I had started to get child support from Bradley but then he quit his job. No paycheck, no money."

"Yeah, I know." Bob scratched his fingers on the arm of the chair. "Hey, Olga, can you get me a pop from the fridge?"

Olga stood up. "Sure, dad. Yahoo?"

He lifted his hand in the air, gesturing he didn't care. "That's all _she_ buys."

Olga left the living room and went to the kitchen and her two-year-old followed her home. Only one daughter was left and she would be gone at the end of the holidays. After that, it would just be him and Miriam. _You never miss a good thing until it's gone_. God, if only he had listened to that earlier.

It's just another Christmas thrown in the garbage disposal; ground into millions of pieces in the search for the light switch.


	15. Chapter 14: The Walk

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

****

CHAPTER 14: The Walk

________

__

"In lonely days long ago,  
I saw lovers put on a show.  
Well, now it's my turn."  
The White Stripes - I Can Learn

"Your family is _great_, Bobbo. Definitely a step above mine."

Robert trudged down the snow-covered street with Helga. "Thanks. Did you like your presents?"

"Yeah."

"Honestly? You can hurt my feelings."

"Honestly, Rob, I really like everything!"

Robert smiled. "Well, that's good."

Helga kicked at the snow surrounding her feet. "I wonder what Arnold's doing right now."

Robert looked at his friend. "That's all you really think about, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Arnold."

"I didn't say anything about Arnold."

"Helga, it's me. You don't have to hide this stuff, I know it already."

She looked at her feet again. "Yeah, so what? I think about him all the time. What's wrong with that?"

"It's just a tiny bit obsessive."

She pointed a finger at Robert. "You can be replaced, you know."

"But then where would you live?"

She put her finger down. "The thing is that… I don't know what the thing is. I'm still confused after all these years."

"You need to tell him, Helga." Robert faced forward. "This has been going on for too long now. What if we graduate High School and you never end up telling him? What if you don't tell him and he goes back to Lila or something?"

"What do you mean 'go back'? You have to leave something to go back to it."

"The point is that you've hidden this secret since kindergarten or whatever. Why not tell him?"

Helga spun and grabbed Robert by his shirt collar. "How exactly are you supposed to deal with something like that? Imagine if, I don't know, Sheena came up to you and told you she had been crushing you since she was four. How would you react?"

"First, I'd want to know if she was serious or not. Second, I'd want to think about how I feel about her."

Helga released her grip and snapped her fingers. "Exactly! Arnold doesn't like me!"

"What are you talking about?"

"He used to hate me, but he doesn't _like me_ like me. Right now, I'm on friendship status-"

"And that's how all good couples start out!"

Helga lifted half of her unibrow. "I'm not the type of person who Arnold would go out with. I'm the type of person who ends up miserable for the rest of their life and ends up dying unmarried."

Robert's patience had then run out. "Oh, for God's sake, Helga, shut up!"

Helga's mouth dropped at Robert's assertiveness. They both stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and Robert continued. "You know, you're my friend and all and I love you like a sister, but quit feeling sorry for yourself and _do_ something about it! Go tell him! Give him a compliment! Say hello to him before he gets the chance to!"

"Robert, I-"

"No! He's never going to notice how desperately you need him until you make him notice!"

"And how the hell am I supposed to that, Robert? Huh?"

All expression had left his face. "The easiest way possible. Tell him the entire story."

***

Arnold hopped inside of the car and started the engine. It was a red convertible. Arnold never knew much about cars and couldn't tell exactly what it was. At the moment, he didn't really care either. It had to be printed on the side of the car or stamped in somewhere. The excitement of the moment made him lose focus on such minor issues.

With the garage door open, Arnold drove his new car out into the driveway. He stepped out of his car, manually closed the garage, and jumped in slid in. The hood was still up on the convertible. Only a fool would drive a car with the top down in winter. He sat back inside and admired his new gift. It was almost as if it were brand new. The car must've been from the sixties or fifties, but it looked like it had just been assembled yesterday. Kind of like Christine… hopefully without the consequences.

He shifted in reverse. Thank god for automatic transmissions. Shifting gears seemed like too much work. How can you relax when driving while you have a responsibility to shift every time you hit a certain RPM? You can't, man. It just can't be done.

He backed out of the driveway and onto the street for a test drive.

***

"You expect me to go up to this boy that I've known all my life and tell him I've been keeping a picture of him with me ever since preschool?"

Robert nodded. "Yes. Yes, I do."

"That's expecting too much from me, chief. I can't just tell him how I feel!"

Robert looked at Helga. "You're a hypocrite."

"What?"

"You heard me. When I had the crush on Rhonda, what did you tell me to do? When I had the crush on Amy, what did you say I should do? When I had that small crush on your friend Phoebe back in seventh grade, what did you tell me to do?"

"I told you to stay away from her," Helga responded. "Gerald would beat you brainless."

"Yeah. Good thing that only lasted three days. Anyways, the important thing is that you usually tell me to act by what I feel is right to do but you hardly ever do the same for yourself."

"I've tried!"

"But not hard enough, Helga! You've never told him exactly everything you need to. Whenever you come close, you always act like it was just a mistake or you were caught up in the moment."

Helga started to walk down the street again. "What do I have to do to make you stop this nagging?"

Robert ran up beside her. "Tell him. Just go and tell him. Get him alone if you have to. Why are you so afraid?"

"Why did you always come to _me _for help? You were just as afraid as I was. Rejection is what I'm afraid of."

"You're not going to get rejected, Helga."

Helga screamed out loud on the empty street, "_And how do you know? What, are you a psychic or something now?_"

They found themselves stopped once again. Robert tried comforting her. "Look, he's known you forever. If you tell him, what do you think he's going to do? Even if he doesn't _like you_ like you, that doesn't mean he's going to excommunicate you or something. You have nothing to lose and a slim chance to gain. Why not take that chance?"

Helga sighed. "I'll try, Rob. I can't promise anything."

Robert lifted a finger up in almost an ET type of gesture and did his best impersonation of Yoda. "No try, only do! Yes! Mmm!"

She couldn't help but laugh. "Rob, you're such a good friend."

"I know." They continued to walk together. "I had a great mentor."

***

Arnold pulled over to the side of the street and rolled down the passenger side window. "Hey, how do you like the car?"

Helga advanced to the window and placed her arms in the open frame. "Wow, this must've cost a lot. Where'd you steal it from, football?"

Robert peaked in from behind Helga's shoulder. "Hi, Arnold."

Arnold waved back. "Hey, Robert. It was a Christmas present. You guys need a ride?"

Helga shook her head. "Nope, we're fine. We were just walking around. In fact, I think we were about to walk back. You feel like going home, Robbie?"

Robert shrugged. "I guess… I don't know."

Arnold leaned an elbow on the steering wheel. "Well, I could at least give you guys a ride. Are you sure you don't need a ride?"

Helga looked over at Robert and whispered, "_What should I do?_"

Robert was speechless, yet tried to talk and letting only portions of words and sputtering escape his mouth. He then finally was able to form something out of the scrambled stuttering: "Take it."

She turned back to Arnold. "I guess we could use a ride. It's only down the street a few blocks away. You'd have to turn around though. You think it'd be alright?"

Arnold nodded. "Oh, yeah. Sure. Both of you just get into the back seat."

Helga moved over a few inches and pulled on the door handle, but the door wouldn't open. She poked her head into the still open window. "Um, this thing's locked."

"Oh." Arnold leaned over and pulled up on the silver tab in the inside of the door. "There you go."

Helga opened the back passenger side door and let herself in. Robert soon followed. She then proceeded to grab her safety belt and click it into place. "Thanks, Arnold. Merry Christmas."

Robert followed off of Helga's statement. "Yeah. Merry Christmas, Arnold."

He turned his head back to them. "Merry Christmas to you guys too." He pulled the car off the side of the road and started up to the closest gas station to turn around. "So how was your Christmas?"

Helga pointed at herself and then Robert. "Me or him?"

"Both."

Robert smiled. "It was great, thanks for asking."

Helga backed him up. "Yeah, it was great."

Arnold just nodded in understanding. "Well, that's good."

Helga moved her foot at the floor of the seat and heard a crumbling sound. She looked and found a bag from a McRonald's fast food restaurant. "When did you get this car?"

"Just this morning."

"And already you're polluting the back seat with garbage?"

"What?" Arnold stopped at the red light and looked into the rear view mirror. Helga held up the brown paper sack. "I think I know who's responsible for that. Bet any money it was Kokoshka."

"Who's that?"

The light turned green and Arnold started to drive again. "Accent, cheapskate, likes to borrow money with no intentions of paying it back."

"Oh, the one with that annoying laugh. 'Heh-heh'." Helga mocked the boarding house occupant almost perfectly.

"That would be the one."

Robert leaned over to Helga and whispered in her ear, "_You know, if you have something to tell him, now might be the time._"

Helga whispered back into his ear, "_I need to tell him alone, Rob. I can't just tell him with you watching._"

"_Sure you can. Just say it: 'Arnold,' and then…_"

Arnold looked back into the rear view mirror. "What are you two talking about?"

Helga answered his question. "Last night's 'North Town'. That cartoon late night on Cartoon Central. You ever watch that show?"

Arnold shook his head while keeping his eyes on the road. "No, I usually go to bed at ten. I don't like staying up late on weekdays."

"You should set your VCR for it or something. It's so funny."

Arnold humored her, "Oh, okay."

She leaned over back to Robert's ear. "_Not now, Rob._"

"_Then when?_"

"_Anytime but now, I can't! Why can't you understand…_"

Arnold kibitzed again, "Is everything alright?"

Helga nodded. "Yeah, everything's great."

Arnold shifted the car into park. "Good, 'cause we're here."

Helga looked out of her window. _Huh, we are here. Ain't that something. _She looked at Arnold's face through the rear-view mirror. His warming smile shone on his face. "What are _you_ smiling at?"

"I don't know." Arnold looked over to the back seat. "It's just… I love this car. I still can't believe that this car is mine, or that all the boarders had chipped in on it. It's just… unreal."

Robert opened his door and left without saying anything. After he was out, they could faintly hear him say "Thanks", but with the windows up and doors shut it's hard to hear anything. Arnold and Helga we're alone in the car now. Helga looked at the seat, the dashboard, and then Arnold. "So… is this all you got?"

"Yeah." Arnold patted the passenger seat. "It's alright. I don't mind, since I wasn't really expecting anyone to get me anything anyway."

"Well, you disserve it. You've been running that damn boarding house for a few years now by yourself." Helga cracked her knuckles. "It's kind of the least they could do."

Arnold held up his left index and middle finger. "Two things Helga. One: I don't care if I get any recognition for what I do at that boarding house. As long as everyone has what they need, it's okay. Two: if you keep cracking your knuckles like that, you're gonna have arthritis by the time you're twenty."

Helga looked at Arnold in disagreement. "Actually, that's just an old wife's tale. There's no scientific proof that this is bad for you."

"Really now?"

"Yeah. When you don't move your fingers for a while, this fluid in them runs out of them. The popping noise is just a pop made in the joints because the fluid's gone. It's not bones breaking or rubbing together; it's just this popping noise where the fluid should be there. That's why you can't crack them again shortly after doing it. If it was bad, that'd mean that chiropractics are a complete sham because all they do is snap those dry spots around."

Arnold was almost speechless. "Where'd you hear this?"

"Health class." She cracked her last remaining joints: her thumbs.

"What teacher did you have?"

"Misses Wittenberg." Helga opened her door. "Haven't you had the class yet? It's required for graduation."

"I think I have it right now. Isn't it part of P.E.?"

"Yeah, the second semester though. I gotta go, Arnold. Thanks for the ride and everything."

Arnold shook his head as if he had just woken up from briefly falling asleep. "See ya, Helga."

She smiled. "See ya, football-head." This time, _football-head_ wasn't used negatively, but as a friendly nickname.

Arnold smiled back at her as she slammed the door shut. Arnold recoiled at the hard hitting of the door back in its place. _Ah, that's gonna wreck this car faster._ He shifted the car into drive and drove away from the curb.

***

"Way to go, Helga. Way to go right out there and tell him."

She raised her arms in confusion. "Hey, I was trying to act casual. I'm not going to just go up to him and say, 'Hey, Arnold! How ya been! Hey, did you know I used to have a pile of used gum in your image? No really! I also have volume after volume of poetry dedicated to you!' Crimeny!" She put her hands down. "I'll tell him next time."

Robert was silent and just stared at her. His eyes were bitter and looked as if he was disappointed at her. He turned around and started walking to his home. "You're never going to feel good until you tell him."

"What I do wrong?" Helga started walking behind him. "What do _you_ care anyway?"

Robert spun around. "You're my friend, Helga! I'm looking out for you! I'm not your landlord, I'm not your meal ticket; I'm your _friend!_ Friends help other friends out! I'm trying to help you the way you've helped me but it's as if you don't realize how badly you need it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Imagine what it'd be like without having to keep this crap secret!" He sighed in exhaustion, still trying to remember what exactly he _was_ complaining about. "If you don't tell him soon, you never will. Merry Christmas."

Robert stormed inside of his house while Helga stood alone in front of it. "Now I _have_ to go tell him! Damn it!"


	16. Chapter 15: Under The Surface

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

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CHAPTER 15: Under the Surface

________

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"I can't cope.  
Never made no sense to me,  
one day, I hope it will and that's that. "  
OutKast - Gasoline Dreams

Phoebe stepped outside of her home, bundled up for the cold weather with a plastic grocery bag bulging at the sides in her hand. The wind nipped at the back of her neck, despite her use of a scarf. She placed her mittened hands inside of her coat pockets and walked against the wind down the street.

She finally arrived at the house she had been searching for: the Johansson residence. It was Gerald's house. The first stop on her route. The bag with her contained two presents: one for Gerald and another for Helga. How could she go through a holiday like this and leave them completely out of the picture?

She knocked on the door and was quickly answered by Gerald's father. He adjusted his glasses and looked on the narrow-eyed girl. "Um, you're not here about my electricity, are you?"

"No," Phoebe laughed. "I'm Phoebe Hyerdahl, a friend of Gerald's. I brought him a present."

His father lifted an eyebrow in question. "Okay." He moved his head off to the side of the door to where it couldn't be seen. "Hey, Gerald! Some Asian girl's here for ya!"

The sound of Gerald quickly rushing down the stairs was instantaneous to his father's call. His dad left and Gerald took his place. "Hi, Phoebe."

She waved at him. "Hi, Gerald. I came by to give you something." She reached in her bag and produced a flat box wrapped in blue paper. It was about the size of maybe a small puzzle, just a half size bigger in all aspects: length, width, and height. It went from her hands to his. "It's really not much at all, but I didn't want to forget you."

Gerald took the package and looked at her happily. "Thanks, Phoebe but I didn't get you anything, I can't accept this. Here, take it back."

Phoebe pushed the box away from her as Gerald tried to hand it back. "No, I don't mind. You keep it. I don't really have any use for it, and I don't think I can take it back. It's no problem." She gave a warming smile as she pushed the present even more towards him. "Take it, keep it."

Gerald shrugged. "Well, I have to give you _something_. You want thirty bucks?"

__

What? "Um, why?"

"Well, I don't think any store is really open on Christmas day, and if they are they won't have what I want to buy you. At least you won't go away empty-handed."

"No, I can't take that." She diverted her eyes towards her feet. "If you really want to get _me_ a present, do it after Christmas. Just open your gift."

Gerald glared over the package. "You sure? You don't want anything before I open this?"

She nodded. "Mmm-hmm."

"Okay, if you insist." Gerald ripped through the wrapping and down to the box. It was completely white and the top was as flimsy as a baseball card. He opened the box and threw out the tissue paper to the ground, revealing a black jacket. It wasn't leather but it wasn't pleather, the poor man's leather, either. It was a weird type of fabric. Above the chest on the left, "Gerald" had been stitched in a graffiti-esque fashion. "Aw, man! That is… thanks, Phoebe."

"Your welcome. I had it done at that place down on Westing street."

"Man, now I _got_ to get you something good. You want fifty bucks?"

Phoebe raised her hands. "Gerald, you don't have to get me anything in return. In fact, I wasn't really expecting anything. If you really feel like getting me something, do it later. You don't have to."

Gerald placed the box with the jacket off inside to where Phoebe couldn't see it. "Oh, man. I gotta do something. You wanna go out for dinner tonight?"

Phoebe's eyes grew wide. "Is there an open restaurant anywhere?"

"Should be. I see it happen in movies all the time. It worked in The Family Man. You ever see that one?"

"Yeah, I did." She looked around the neighborhood surrounding her as if searching for inspiration to her yes/no answer. "Um, yeah, I'd like that. Do you want me to just come down here at some time or will you pick me up…"

"I'll pick you up. I'll be there around seven or so. I'll call before I'm heading out."

She smiled. "Okay, I'll see you later." She skipped happily off of Gerald's steps as he closed the door. She ran down the street to make her next delivery.

***

Big Bob answered the door. "Oh, it's you. Helga moved out. She's at some kid's house; Ronald or something."

Phoebe snapped her fingers. "Oh, I forgot about that. She's at Robert's house."

Bob grunted and cleared his throat. "Yeah, that'd be it. Anyway, do you know where this kid lives?"

"Um, yeah. I don't know the exact address but I could show you."

"Well, I have some things I need to do right now. Could you draw me a map or something?"

Phoebe looked down and then back up at Bob. "Do you have any paper?"

***

Robert answered his door. "Hey, Phoebe. Looking for Helga?"

She held up the bag. "Yeah, I have a present for her."

"Well, she's not here right now. I think she went to Arnold's."

"Why?"

He squinted his eyes. "You know, right?"

"You mean that she's had an undying obsession with Arnold ever since she was able to say his name? Yeah, I've known that. She told me back in elementary."

"I think she's gonna finally go tell him."

Phoebe was more shocked than excited. "Really? What possessed her to do that?"

"Well…" Robert paused. "I kind of pressured her into it. I yelled at her about it and… I think that's where she went anyway. I might be wrong."

"Oh." She stared at the package in the bag. "Well, I kind of wanted to deliver this in person to her. Can you take it?"

Phoebe extended the hand holding the bag and placed it in Robert's hand. "Um, sure. I can do that."

"Wow, you must've done some serious convincing to get her to go tell Arnold."

"Yeah." Robert let out a deep sigh. "Now I think she's mad at me."

"Don't worry." Phoebe put her hands in her coat pockets. "It's hard for Helga to stay mad at somebody."

Robert concurred, "Big Bob."

"That's different. That's family."

Robert sighed. "Well, if you see her before I do, tell her I'm sorry."

"Okay." Phoebe smiled. "Make sure you give her that." The bag was still in Robert's hand and a medium-sized box stuck out of it. "See ya later, Robbie."

"See ya, Phoebe."

***

The blonde haired girl stood on the steps of the boarding house shaking inside of her shoes. Yes, she was nervous, but it was also below freezing outside. Staring at the door of the house, she started to remember the old days: hanging out on the stoop with all of her friends doing practically nothing. Yes, they were fond memories, but not really much had changed in that aspect. The door also seemed so much bigger when she was younger. The moment of truth has come and it won't take a money order; it wants the cash out of your wallet on the spot.

Helga mustered up the courage to finally knock on the door. She knew he's there. The brand-new card was outside on the street. _Wouldn't he want to put that in the garage or something? I know they have one in the back of the building, it's where he keeps his bike._ She anticipated his warm greeting at the door, yet she feared it like the boogey man. It's about friggin' time though, right?

Then it happened. Helga shut her eyes as the door opened, and a familiar voice spoke to her. "Um, you here for the short man?"

Helga opened her eyes. "Hey, I haven't seen you for a while."

Phil stood there trying to keep his balance with the doorknob. "Yeah, he's up in that room of his. You want me to call him down or do you want to go up there?"

"Well, what's he doing? I mean, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Arnold's Grandpa shook his head. "No, of course not! He's probably playing some sort of video game or something on his computer."

"Then I guess I could go up there."

"Okay, follow me." Phil slowly limped his way to the bottom of the stairs in a way that reminded Helga of Igor from Young Frankenstein. All he needed was a hunchback. Grandpa called down from the bottom. "Hey, Arnold! That girl with the one eyebrow is here to see you!" He turned to her. "What's your name again?"

"Helga."

"Heddy is here." He turned back to Helga. "What's your last name?"

"Pataki. My first name is HEL-GA."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He looked up the stairs. "Helen McCracky is here."

The steps to Arnold's room lowered to show the occupant walking down. "I heard you the first time, Grandpa."

"Well, just wanted to be sure." Phil then started to walk away. "If you need me, I'll be in the den watching infomercials and fifties cop dramas." He turned around the corner and disappeared. Then the voice of the television stood out. _It has the cleaning power of grapefruit! Watch as it takes this grease pencil off of this fridge!_

Arnold and Helga were alone with each other. The foot ball-headed boy clapped and rubbed his hands together. "So, what do you want?"

"Um, I was just… what are you doing?"

"Nothing important. You wanna come up to my room?"

"Yeah, sure." It wasn't as if she was nervous. She wasn't shaking in fear, but rather trembling inside. All the writing on the wall said she wasn't supposed to be there. It was like intruding in on a secret society that can tell you're not a member. She was a fraud for no crime and it was starting to make her sick. Arnold led Helga up into his room.

***

She answered the door to find the moonstruck, black-haired boy bending at one knee. "Gloria, my sweet!" Curly pulled a ring out of his pocket. "Do take my noble gesture and forever be bound with me in bliss!"

Gloria stared at him. "Curly, you need to go home. I told you before: no."

"Please, give me another chance! Two words from my cherub's lips are all I need to fulfill my life and enclose the gaping in the middle of my soul! Say I do!"

She took the ring from out of his hand and threw it across the street. "Curly, you need to stop this. People are starting to talk. I like you as a friend but… I'm too young to get married and… you _scare_ me!"

Curly's mouth gaped open. "Does my only shine of light from out of my dark existence deny me of a love purer than fresh snow?"

She bent down and placed her hands at his shoulders. "Stop that! Was the restraining order not enough to keep you away from me?"

Curly started to imitate a sobbing noise. "If I shall remain clandestine in this relationship, you shall find my corpse at the bottom of the City Park's river bridge. I bid you ado, my fair lady."

Gloria slammed the door and stood in front of Curly outside of her home. "Curly, it just wouldn't work out. You need some help."

"Then help me, my lovely maiden! Help me feel…"

She slapped him in the face. "That's my last warning; stop that. Curly, get some rest. If you don't leave here in a positive, non-suicidal attitude, I'm calling the cops. Do you understand?"

He shook his head and snapped to reality. "Yeah, yeah. Alright, you won this round." He started to walk away and down the street away from Gloria. "But I shall return, and I will not cease until I have gained your hand…" His words were interrupted by a rock that struck his shoulder. "Ah-ha! A token of my love's affection!" He bent down and picked it up. "I shall forever keep this treasure and let it remind me of the bruise you have not only placed on my arm… but on my heart as well."

Gloria crossed her arms. "Go home!"

***

"So how's life treatin' ya?"

Arnold closed the door to his room. "Pretty good." He sat on his couch and Helga grabbed his computer chair. "And you."

"I've been better." _Don't stop now, Helga. You want this. You want this. _"I like what you've done to your room."

"I did that a while ago. You've been here since I redecorated."

"I know, but I never said anything about it." She looked at her feet. "There's a lot of things I've never told you."

"Yeah, but the days of useless compliments are dead." Arnold started to get up. "You want a Yahoo or something?"

"SIT!" She pointed a finger to the couch. "Just sit for right now."

Arnold froze and slowly sat himself back down. "Is something wrong, Helga? I was just gonna get a soda."

She buried her face in her hands. "Arnold, this is very hard for me to say but I need to."

His eyes bulged. "What's wrong? Did somebody steal my car?"

"No!" She gripped her hands at the bottom of the computer chair. "It has nothing to do with your car."

"Well, what happened? Did Gerald get run over or something? Has Lila O.D.'d? What's happened?"

"Something I should've told you a long time ago."

"What? Did you take the tip off of the table from when we went to High Stakes?"

"No!" She rolled her eyes back in her head. "Actually, I did, but that's not what's important right now."

Arnold clasped his hands together. "Then tell me."

She took a deep breath only to sigh it out. "Arnold, I…"

"Yes?"

She bit down on her bottom lip to the point that an imprint would be left when she let go. "Arnold, I… love you."

Arnold blinked in confusion. "Okay… Helga… I guess I love you too but what's the big deal?"

She pounded a fist on his computer desk. "That's not what I mean, Arnold. I… I'm _obsessed_ about you."

The same blank glare shone from Arnold's face as he searcher for a response. "You're… obsessed?"

"Since the day we first met…" She stopped and took a deep breath and continued talking in a relaxed calmness. "…I've kept a locket with your picture of you in it. I've made shrines of your likeness out everything from gum to watermelon. I've written many volumes of poetry devoted to _you_. Sometimes I follow you home just to watch you walk in the front door." She cringed and braced herself mentally for whatever Arnold had to say.

Arnold scratched his head. "Wow… that's… why are you telling me this?"

"Because I've kept it a secret for too long." A single, meaningless tear rolled down her cheek. "I need to know how you feel… honestly."

"Helga," Arnold paused and thought of what he was going to say. "I don't know what to say."

Helga stared at his floor. "Yeah, I figured that." She stood up and pulled her locket from out of her pocket. "Here. Merry Christmas." She threw it on his bed and morosely traveled down the steps from his room. She spoke as she left, "I'll be down at Robert's if you need me."

Arnold was about to yell at Helga to stop, but couldn't think of any meaning to it. He walked over to his bed and picked up the locket. It had been a newer one since the time Grandpa had found it, and Arnold had just put together all the pieces of his life that didn't make sense: the book of poetry he found, the locket, the constant abuse, the jump-roping outside of the house…

He then realized a harder question to answer: _Where is she getting my school photos?_ _I never gave her any_.

***

Helga closed the door to the boarding house, stepped off in to the alley under Arnold's window, and began to sob. Jerry Lewis had once quoted his father: "Always expect the worse and you'll never be disappointed." That doesn't mean anything. Just because you know the worst is yet to come doesn't mean you'll be happy with being right. The truth still hurts, whether if you knew or not what was to come.

She found her self crouched on the snowy pavement, crying for a love she knew wouldn't work. It was then that snow started to fall; just one more candy-coated sprinkle to put on Helga's sugar-filled life.


	17. Chapter 16: Lugubrious

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

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CHAPTER 16: Lugubrious

________

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"Oh, how wrong can you be?  
Oh, to fall in love was my very first mistake.  
How was I to know?  
I was far too much in love to see."  
Queen - Jealousy

Park stood next to Robert approached the lunch line. "So, why are you telling me all of this?"

Robert held out his tray to the lunch lady. "I'll have the number four." The lady placed two stale biscuits on his Styrofoam tray and continued to slop some pale, gray gravy on them. Robert turned to Park. "I love Breakfast for Lunch day."

Park held out his tray. "Number two." As the lunch lady placed some very small pancakes on his tray, he turned to Robert. "Back on subject. Why are you telling me about all of Helga's problems?"

"Two reasons." Robert moved down. "I'm trying to figure a way to help her and raise her from this funk she's been in. Also, now that she told Arnold, she doesn't care who knows which makes it open discussion. You see any solutions?"

Park pulled his tray back and moved down in the line with Robert, grabbing any condiment he thought he might need. "Well, I think she needs to move on and live with the fact that Arnold will always be nothing but a friend."

"Try telling her that." Robert and Park pulled up to the cashier. They lifted their hands and the lady nodded at them. Thank God for the free lunch system. They walked off toward their table. "New subject, Park. This is getting old."

Park took his seat. "How about Lila?"

"I haven't heard, what's happened to her now?"

"She's back."

Robert froze while pulling the spout out on his carton of chocolate milk. "She's back?"

"Yeah. Since she's missed so much, she's been entered as a sophomore. She won't graduate for a while."

"Huh." Robert finally took a drink from the milk after getting the spout to open. "That's something." Robert paused to take another drink. "I hate Lila."

"Why? Nobody hates Lila!"

__

That's questionable, he thought to himself. "The girl is just… she's just… dopey." He stared at his alleged biscuits and gravy. "She's… like a mannequin. A life-like body with a hollow head."

"So, you're calling her stupid."

"No, just dopey. There's nothing real about her." He looked at Park's lunch. "Hey, I'll sell you these biscuits for seventy-five cents."

"Try that stuff on Harold. I have neither the money nor the appetite." Park picked at his pancakes and took a bite with his cheap plastic fork. "I'm not completely following you. Yes, she's just a pretty face, but what do you mean 'real'?"

"Look, _all_ she ever will be is a pretty face and that's the problem. She has no likeable qualities except for her physical appearance."

"That's not true. She has a great sense of humor."

Robert glared at Park. "All of her jokes end with something like 'Whatever you do, don't smell that cow' or something."

Park recalled silently in his head. "Yeah… that's pretty true. She's a bleeding-heart animal lover."

"What girl isn't?" Robert finished the carton of milk. "I mean she's a good kid and I'm not going to make fun of her or anything, but I just think she's not someone to have a deep relationship with."

Park was now struggling with the spout of his chocolate milk. "You know, you'd think somebody would've thought of something better than this by now."

At that moment, Harold started to walk by with his own tray of food. Robert turned in his seat and waved his hand slightly. "Hey Harold."

The tubby teenager spun around to see Robert. "Yeah?"

"Sell you my biscuits for seventy-five cents. You want 'em?"

"Oh, would I ever!"

***

Arnold sat down at the lunch table with a brown paper sack. "Hey, Gerald."

Gerald lifted his hand up. "What up, Arnold? Or should I say Helga's 'sultry pre-teen'?" He started to laugh uncontrollably. "Man! That sure came out of nowhere!"

"Hey, shut up." Arnold searched through the sack. "What she did took a lot of courage. Would you go to someone's house…"

Gerald's eyes grew wide and he interrupted as fast as he could. "Aw, man! Don't tell me you fell for her! If so, that's cool and all, but man!"

"I'm not falling, nor did I fall for her. I just feel some sympathy for her, you know? I'm kind of mad at myself that I don't like her. She hasn't been in school ever since it came back in session. That's four days, Gerald!" Arnold grabbed an apple from the bag and started to rub it on his shirt. "I have emotionally upset a girl so badly that she hasn't been to school for _four days_!"

"Yeah, I can see how that is. It's Helga though, man. Think about the back-story of all of this: if she likes you so much, how come she's always been such a bitch to you?"

"I can understand why." He opened his mouth and took a large bite of the red delicious. "See, she was trying to conceal her secret by acting totally opposite."

"I hear what you're saying, but she's done some cold stuff to you, man." Gerald looked around the cafeteria as he spoke, as if searching for something he knew he wasn't going to fine. "Remember when she glued the feathers to your…"

Arnold raised his hand. "I remember, I remember. I don't care, man. I think I need to go and see if she's all right."

"Wait," Gerald said. "You can't do that. That'll just hurt her more. She'll show up eventually, give her some time."

Arnold looked at the apple in his hand. "Yeah, but I feel like I owe her something."

"Dude, you don't owe her anything." Gerald placed a hand on his friend's closest shoulder. "Things didn't work out like she wanted, that doesn't make it your fault. If you think of it that way, you're gonna start liking her out of pity, and that just doesn't work out no matter _how_ you try it."

"Yeah, you're right." He took another bite from the apple. "I just wished it seemed right."

Gerald removed his hand. "Aw, stop with the dramatics. Little George Clooney wannabe."

***

Helga lied on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Robert's parents understood the situation and left her alone, but not before suggesting that she went back to school on Friday. _Winter Vacation's over, Helga, and eventually you have to face the music_. She knew the facts of it, yet she didn't care. Not even the ceiling offered comfort through the boring days alone. The strange, alien ceiling that was unlike that of her original home. Nothing is more uncomfortable than a new ceiling.

No secret, no use in hiding, and so more locket either. Helga would no longer need to steal pictures of Arnold from Phoebe; there would be no point. Tomorrow she was going to have to go to school and get over any grievances she might have. Yet in today, she had no way of helping her depression and it was driving her crazy: slowly but surely. New perils ahead were child's play compared to mental anguish she felt now. Everything's pointless, and nothing has meaning.

She stood up from the bed. Her pillow still kept the shape of her head resting upon it. She walked towards the living room and started to mess with the stereo. She pulled out of her pocket a mix tape. She had one for every mood: happy, anxious, sad, etc. On this occasion, it was the sad tape; filled with sappy crap to try and lift the frown from her face. This never would happen, but one can wish. Right?

The first song started and a sad piano harmony flowed from the speakers. This was truly the greatest moment ever to wallow in one's self pity. Life is full of sickness and unfortunately it sucks.

***

Arnold tapped on the lunch table lightly with his fingers as Lila sat down across from him and Gerald. "Hey Arnold."

"Hey Lila." Arnold stared at his fingers as he drummed them lightly. "How's school treating you so far?"

"Okay, I guess. Everyone's has been just ever-"

Arnold stopped tapping and slammed his palms on the table. "Lila, it's been pretty crappy for me for a while now, and I really don't want to hear all your little Lila-isms. Please don't say 'ever-so' or any of the junk."

She leaned back as if dodging a swing. "Alright, Arnold. Everyone has been really accepting to me. I'm in resource room so I have a lot of advantages to what I'm do during the day."

He nodded as Gerald looked at him in awe. "Well, that's good." He saw Gerald's eyes and knew what he was thinking. _How can you be crazy about this girl and yet be a complete jerk to her?_ He guess wasn't that far off. Lila had become an enormous pain in the neck. "I'm sorry if I seem kind of rude, it's been a hard week."

"I understand." She moved in her chair as if trying to get comfortable. "How was your Christmas, Arnold?"

"Great, it was great. Yours?"

"Oh, it was just ev… it was just pleasant."

"That's good to hear." Arnold had now finished the apple. The rest of his lunch just seemed excessive now. "It's nice to see you back, Lila. It really is."

"Your welcome." Lila now searched aimlessly through the cafeteria with her eyes. Fifteen minutes still remained of the lunch period.

***

"Hey, Arnold. Looks like the school's finally gonna have that talent show!" Gerald ripped the flyer off the wall on his way to his locker.

Arnold glanced over at the paper. "Every year this school tries to have a talent show. Something always goes wrong and it gets cancelled. Last year there weren't enough participants. The year before, the auditorium was under repair. The year before _that_, the drama teacher came down with the flu and couldn't handle the show."

"Yeah, but there's always that chance that this year it'll be different. Maybe now I'll get the attention I disserve."

"For what? All you can do is play piano."

"Hey, I warned you about bringing that up." Gerald's finger was in Arnold's face. "I haven't played piano in a long while and I don't intend to do it in public any time soon."

"Then what are you going to do."

"Maybe I'll sing a song, maybe I'll do a rap. You never know."

"You rap?" Arnold stopped at his locker and Gerald paused with him. "I've never heard you."

"Hey, there's a lot of things people don't know about me. Me and Fuzzy Slippers spend a lot of our time rhyming."

"Huh." Arnold grabbed a textbook and slammed the door. "I never would've guessed. Are you guys any good."

"I don't judge, man. I don't pick favorites and I don't rank other people. I'm not about to go and say if I'm good or not because that would just be my ego talking."

"Yeah," agreed Arnold, "but how are you going to join a talent show if you have no confidence in what it is you want to do?"

"I have confidence, I'm just not about to call myself good or not. That's for someone else to decide, not me."

"Well, good luck. I gotta get to Health."

"I thought you had Gym after lunch."

"I did." Arnold and Gerald started to walk back down the hall. "This is the health portion of the class. Same teacher, but now I have a book to drag along."

"That's a shame. I'll see you later Arnold." Gerald turned and rushed down the opposite way of the hall.

"See ya, Gerald."

***

Arnold came over to the table with his notepad and pen ready. "Are you two ready yet?"

The newlyweds looked at each other. The husband pulled away from his wife's ear and looked at Arnold. "Yes, we'll each have the lobster."

"Great choice." Arnold scratched the order down in his Chez Paris pad. "Anything to drink? Would you like to see our collection of wine?"

"Yes, that'd be great. Thank you." The man once again returned to whispering into his wife's ear.

Arnold flipped the cover on the pad and nodded. "Your welcome. I'll be right back with that list." He stepped back to the kitchen with the order and placed it on the circular clipboard. At that same moment, Sid had walked in with an order. "How did you ever talk me into getting this job, Sid?"

He placed his order next to Arnold's and looked him in the face. "The pay is excellent, the tips are great, and these suits they make us wear are pretty effin' awesome too. Very choice if I must say."

"Yeah, but the people who eat here are snobs." Arnold looked out of the door to see the higher class eating their expensive dinners. Out of the many faces, he was able to recognize Rhonda's parents at a table by themselves. "Are you serving the Lloyds?"

"No, that's the new girl's territory. I've got the old couple over there in the corner." Sid pointed to show where he meant. "Old people are great at restaurants like these. They always tip the highest."

Arnold looked over to a stack of menus to where there was a list of wines next to them. He grabbed one and turned towards Sid. "I gotta go back out there."

"Me too."

They both left the kitchen at the same time and Arnold walked to the couple's table. "Here's the list, sir."

The man once again pulled away from his wife. "Thank you again."

"Your welcome. I'll be back in a while with your dinner as soon as it's done."

The woman finally made herself vocal. "Thank you, young man."

"Your welcome."

It was then that a familiar face had just walked in through the door. The face that had stopped him in his tracks so many years ago. Arnold hadn't noticed at the moment of her arrival, but he would soon. Sid had rushed over to her. "How many?"

She lifted her hand and displayed with her fingers; "Three. My parents should be around soon."

"Okay, follow me."


	18. Chapter 17: Magic in the Hand

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

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CHAPTER 17: Magic in the Hand

________

__

"Yes, I know who you remind me of.  
A girl I think I used to know.  
Yes, I'd see her when the days got colder,  
On those days when it felt like snow.  
  
You know, I even think that she stared like you.  
She used to just stand there and stare  
And roll her eyes right up to heaven  
And make like I just wasn't there."  
The Cure - Catch

"Ruth?"

Arnold nodded to Gerald as he sat next to him on the bus. "Ruth McDougal was at my restaurant last night."

"Why are you calling it 'your' restaurant? You don't own it."

Arnold narrowed his eyes. "That's not important. I call it mine because I work there. Anyway, she was there with her family. I had to wait on her."

"Well, so what? Did you talk to her?"

Arnold looked at his shoes. "Well, here's the whole story."

***

Sid came up to me and told me that I had another customer. He would've told me had he known it was Ruth, but he hadn't recognized her without her braces. I can't blame him. The funny thing about it was that for a moment, _I _couldn't remember her and I had just seen her last year at Rhonda's Halloween party.

Anyways, I go up to her and ask if she's ready to order. She looked at me and it was then I recognized her. She even remembered my name! She said, "Hey, you're that Arnold kid from Rhonda's Halloween party."

***

"And what'd you say to her?"

"I said, 'Yeah, I am.' That's not important, there's more to the story.'"

***

Anyway, she told me, "I'm not ready to order, my parents aren't here yet. We're celebrating that I've been accept to a new college."

It turns out that after high school, she started going to some ratty, small college somewhere out in Utah and was now being transferred somewhere closer to home. I sat down with her and we just kept talking, Gerald. I've never sat down with someone and talked to them like this… except for maybe Helga, but that was different. She asked me, "Why haven't you ever talked to me before? I always knew you were staring at me back in fourth grade."

This blew my mind. I had no idea she had any type of clue that I liked her in anyway. I, of course, played it cool and admitted to liking her but was now over it. She then said, "Well, that's too bad. You are kind of cute."

***

Gerald glared in disbelief. "Okay; _now_ I _know_ you're lying."

Arnold shook his head. "I swear to God, this is the truth! If not, let me get struck by lightening."

"You're honestly not making this up?"

"Not a word."

"Well, that can't be the whole story, can it?"

"Not by a long shot."

***

To this, I played the humble, modest type of guy. I was like, "Aw, you're just saying that." She was persistent with this. I mean, she wasn't giving me the key to her room or anything, but she kept on with the "no, you're really cute" routine. We then started talking about me. She asked how I've been, how school is for _me_. I've never had anyone care enough to ask me this type of stuff… except for Helga, but that's a different story.

We sat there for a half-hour just shooting the breeze. It was then that I asked her if she wanted to go see a movie or something on Wednesday. She said sure and that I can pick her up at her house. She wrote down the address on the back of one of her parents' business cards when they arrived.

***

"So you're going out with Ruth?"

Arnold remained silent but just nodded his head with a smile.

"Aw, yeah, man!" He lifted his hand up with the palm down. "Come on, now!"

Arnold slapped his hand. "I've waited a long time for this, Gerald. There's no way I'm gonna…"

"Stop right there!" Gerald slapped a hand across Arnold's mouth. "Don't even start with these confidence speeches and all that 'nothing can go wrong' crap. As soon as you say it, something happens. Unless you want Ruth showing up horribly disfigured with a walker and a hunchback, I'd advise you shut up."

"Sorry."

"Don't say sorry, man. Ain't nothing to be sorry about."

***

Helga rummaged through her adopted dresser at Robert's house in her clothing. "It has to be in here somewhere, I made sure I stole it before I left!" She flung shirts around the room and tossed many other articles around with them. "Where is it? Ah, here it is!"

She pulled a long, pink dress with a stripe at the bottom, just like the ones she used to wear all throughout elementary school. When she had become Johnny Stitches' "It Girl" so many years ago, Miriam had bought a dress just like the one Helga used to wear. Before she left, Helga made sure to snatch it since Miriam wouldn't be wearing it anymore. They were almost the same size. The dress may be a little big, but it always kind of was.

She slipped it on over a white, short-sleeved shirt. She was the spitting image of her younger days, almost like Phoebe was now. She hadn't ever been happier than she was at this moment.

***

"Uh-oh, Arnold. Here comes trouble."

Helga and Robert boarded the parked bus. Robert took a seat near the front of the bus and Helga took a seat in the very back behind Gerald and Arnold. She placed her backpack beside her and pulled a CD player out of it and sunk down in her seat. Gerald turned to Arnold. "Hey, she's back. Maybe she has a poem about her absence!" Gerald started to laugh. "_Oh, fairest Arnold, there is not one day / that I wish we weren't so far away…_"

Helga glared up at the top of the seat in front of her. _No, I can't hear you at all, numb nuts._

Arnold put his hand on the base of Gerald's left shoulder and neck and pulled him close. He spoke to where Helga could not hear, "What are you doing?"

"Hey, I'm just playing around."

"Gerald, that's so mean what you're doing to her right now!" He let go of Gerald. "You're acting like Sid and Stinky, for God's sake."

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" Gerald pushed away a little. "I didn't mean it to be mean, I was just playing around. You should know that."

"But it was still mean." Arnold sighed. "Imagine if it was you in her position."

"Damn it, Arnold, I didn't mean anything by it!" Helga had now poked her head above the seat, startled by their conversation. "I'm sorry!"

Arnold had finally started to talk at an average volume. "Well, I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." Helga snuck back down in her seat quickly. "You know she heard you."

Gerald turned over to see Helga crouching down in her seat. "I'm sorry, Helga, for any offensive comments I may have made about you." He offered a hand out. "Friends?"

The blonde-haired girl scowled and crossed her arms. "No."

"Buddies?"

"No."

"Acquaintances?"

Helga shoved her hand out and shook Gerald's vigorously. "Deal, now leave me alone."

Gerald sighed. "Fine." He retrieved his hand and placed it back at his side. He slowly turned back to Arnold. "I did the best I could."

"Well, thanks for apologizing." Arnold stood on his knees and turned around to the seat behind him and the girl occupying it. "Helga…"

She cut his sentence in half and left it dead on the floor. "I don't want to talk to you, Arnold. At all."

The bus stopped and the doors opened again, this time for students to vacate. Arnold stepped off of the bus before Helga and stood at the doors to follow her. "So, what, we're not friends anymore?"

"Something like that." She grasped her books tightly against her chest as she walked in the school.

"Come on, you're not being fair!" Helga opened the front door of the school and tried her best to slam the door on Arnold's face. No attempt worked. "Just because we don't _like_-like each other doesn't mean we can't be friends."

"To you, it doesn't mean we can't be friends. To me, it does. Two different definitions, keep up with the program." Helga walked inside of the cafeteria with Arnold hot on her trail. "Why do you want to talk to me anyway?"

"Because I know you don't hate me."

Helga sat down. "What would give you that sort of idea?"

Arnold sat across from her at the round table. "If you hated me so much, you wouldn't be so upset over all of this. Also, you wouldn't have confined yourself to your room for a week." Arnold cringed back at the sound of his own words.

"What, do you think you know everything about me?" Helga slammed her hands on the table's surface. "What are you, some sort of analyst?"

"Helga, calm down." Arnold raised his hands as if being mugged or pleading innocent. "I'm just trying to talk to you, I don't want to start a fight. I want to be friends again. Please, Helga."

Helga stood up. "I'm going to go get my breakfast now. If you're still here by the time I come back, I'm going to deflate that football-shaped head of yours with no anesthetic. As you should know, I'm usually one to keep my word." Helga walked away and into the, what was now the "breakfast", line. It was the same place they'd line up for lunch but with self-service.

Arnold stared at the table's shiny top. "I am so screwed."

***

Miss Apollyon walked up and down the rows of her classroom, which now were in straight lines and rearranged seating. "Children! As you know, this is Creative Writing class, and so you shall have to creatively write." While walking by Peapod Kid's desk, she quickly snatched a Yahoo bottle he had by his feet. "I know this may be a shock to all of you kids who have been sleeping through this class for the last semester, but now I'm counting all of your papers as test grades!"

The whole class' jaws dropped. Gerald spoke out against her tyranny, "Miss A! That's not fair! A test grade is…"

The teacher stomped her foot down. "Stop the talking! This isn't open for discussion! This is a wake up call for all of you slackers and procrastinators. To make this even more of an awakening, I'm going to make your next assignment as a partner project. If one of you doesn't do your part, you both fail!"

Arnold rolled his eyes back. _I know right where this is going. I'm probably going to be partnered with Hel…_

"Arnold, you're paired up with Helga."

He slammed his head to his desk with a deafening thud. "Perfect."

"Do you have a problem with your partner?"

Arnold lifted his head up and sarcastically smiled. "No, it just seemed a little predictable. I'm not upset at all."

"There's that wit showing through again." Miss Apollyon walked passed him and on to the next student. "Keep it up and you'll find yourself suspended for three days. Your grade is on thin ice, young man."

Arnold placed his head back on the tabletop. "Got ya, Miss A."

"We don't use 'got'. You say 'I understand, Miss A.'" She looked around her classroom. "Where is Helga any way?"

***

Helga sat on the floor outside of the doorway to her classroom. "Why does it always have to be Arnold? What did I do to disserve such bad luck?"

Helga's hands, which had been clenched in front of her, were now placed at her sides as she spotted Curly walking down the hall. The wide-eyed boy waved at her and smiled with all he could. "Oh, you don't have to stop your endless chants about Arnold just because of me."

"I swear to God, I'm going to kill you one of these days."

"Not if I beat you there!" He continued walking down the hall with a chipper step.

Helga blinked in confusion and looked back at her hands. The door to the classroom opened to reveal the raccoon-eyed teacher behind it. "What are you doing out in the hall?"

"I started to fear a little woozy like I had to throw up. I thought sitting in your class and waiting for permission would just cause an accident."

"So sneaking out in the hall to puke is okay?"

Helga smiled. "It's better than on your carpeted floor, isn't it?"

The teacher pointed her thumb towards the inside of the room. "Get back into class, Helga."

"Right away, Miss A."

***

"I have some rules and regulations to this assignment, football-head, and I'm going to lay them flat on the table right now." Helga took the seat next to Arnold and placed her stack of folders and notebooks beside him. "First of all…"

"Helga, if we're working together, shut up."

Helga raised her finger as if ready to speak, but silenced herself. She then decided to talk, "Arnold, I'm trying to reach a negotiation here and you're just blocking my chances."

Arnold's jaw dropped as he turned to her. "_I'm _stopping you from _what_? Excuse me?"

"It's like this, football. If we're working on this, we can't be all mad at each other."

Arnold held his hands out with his palms to the ceiling. "I'm not mad at you!"

"No need to shout now." Helga calmly pulled a notebook out and opened it with the cover to the back in her hand. "Even though we _have_ to work together, I can't have you causing problems."

Arnold placed a hand on her notebook and slammed it down to the table. "Are you going to stop acting like this, or are we going to zip past this with you acting like this. You aren't running this project, it's a group effort." He pointed at himself with his thumb. "I'm as in charge as you are and we're both getting graded for the paper together. We have to coincide."

Helga lifted half of her eyebrow in question to Arnold's proposition. "You don't have a problem about all the stuff I've done in the past? You don't have a problem knowing what you do now?"

"No!" Arnold backed away from Helga a little bit. "Apparently _you_ do."

She crossed her arms and gritted her teeth. "So it's okay?"

"Helga, are we friends or what?"

She looked up and uncrossed her arms. "Yeah. We're friends. Just ignore me if I start acting weird or anything like that."

Arnold nodded in agreement. "I understand. What's the subject of the assignment we have to do?"

Helga squinted to read the board. "Um… we have to 'write a story consisting of fourteen-hundred words that…' I don't know. Shouldn't we have a worksheet for this?"

Arnold looked on the desk. "Oh, I'm so stupid. Yeah. We must write a story from the viewpoint of an inanimate object. This is so pointless."

"Tell me about it."

Arnold tapped his pencil on the desk. "Any ideas?"

She put her left elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm. "I have a few."


	19. Chapter 18: A Lighter Note

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

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Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 18: A Lighter Note

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"I got all the things I need.  
It's the nature of my breed.  
I'm independent,  
Cool and confident,  
Always in command.  
What a graceful element,  
A tasteful compliment.  
Do you know who I am?"  
Marcy Playground - The Devil's Song

Rhonda stuck the key to her car in the ignition and started it. "My God, Nadine, did you see Megan?"

Her friend in the passenger seat stared blankly. "Um, I'm not sure. Which one was she?"

"Blonde hair, wears glasses sometimes, into theatre. Her outfit was absolutely atrocious." She checked over her shoulder as she pulled out of her space in the school's student parking lot. "She looked like trailer trash or something."

Nadine shrugged. "Well, they say the poor look is coming in style."

Rhonda's eyes widened at her friend. "Poverty will never be in fashion, as long as my last name is Lloyd."

"What about when you get married?"

"Let's not complicate the matter." She shifted the car into drive and peeled out of the parking lot. "Besides, I don't know Robert's last name."

The car went down Hillwood's main street. Rhonda looked out of her windows as she drove at all of the shops and stores. "This town is so old," complained Rhonda. "How come the closest mall is in the next city?"

Nadine shook her head. "I haven't the foggiest, Rhonda."

She sighed as she gripped the steering wheel. "You just want me to drop you off at home or do you want to go somewhere else, 'cause I have to go to work."

Nadine stared out of her window. "You can drop me off anywhere, it doesn't matter. My homes coming up so you could just drop me off there."

"Hold on, here it is!" Rhonda halted the car and quickly slicked it into a parallel parking spot on the side of the street. She shifted the car into park and rolled down her window. The cold weather greeted her with a powerful gust. "There it is, Nadine. His house."

Nadine looked out of Rhonda's window and saw Robert's home. "Why do you always do this, Rhonda?"

The priss quickly snapped her neck to face the girl. "One day, me and Robert are going to get married, and if you do anything to jinx my chances, I'll flush your bug collection down the toilet."

She leaned away from the driver with her hands at the pockets of her jeans, as if to trap any loose bugs she may be harboring. "You wouldn't! I've collected those as far back as I can remember."

"Just don't cross me, 'Naddie'. That's all I'm telling you." Rhonda shifted her way out of the spot and back out on the road, never taking her eyes off of his house as they drove past it. "I can't describe it, Nadine. Have you ever liked anyone?"

She rolled her eyes up at the roof of the car searching for an answer. "Once or twice, I've had my crushes."

"This isn't a crush, this is… _devotion_." She drummed on her steering wheel rhytmatically. "Where you'd feel like doing anything for the boy if he'd only ask."

"You have it pretty bad."

"Well, who have you liked? We've been such good friends but I never ask you about your personal life. We always end up talking about me, let's talk about you. Who do _you_ like?"

Nadine looked down at her feet. "I don't know… I don't really want to tell you."

"Oh, come on!" Rhonda looked away from her windshield and at her friend for a second. "There has to be somebody, just tell me! We're best friends!"

Nadine balled her fists up and turned toward Rhonda. "No! I'm _not_ telling you!"

Rhonda slowly stopped her car at the red light. "Okay, then… I'm not going to ask." She looked on to the road ahead as she waited for the light to hit green. "Is it Peapod? If I guess right, will you tell me?"

She banged her fists on her knees. "No!"

The light turned green and she pounded on the gas with a lead foot. "Fair enough. You have your money?"

"Yeah, I do. Remind me to stop at the pet store in the mall. I need a new butterfly net."

Rhonda sighed as she took a corner. "Girl, we need to get you a new hobby."

***

Michael gripped the mic on the stand as he sang towards the audience of three. Auditions for the talent show were in fool swing as his band slammed on their instruments. "_I wish I could help or understand you. The girl with the sad eyes needs to cheer up a bit…_"

Gerald's knees shook in a weird pattern as he stood off to the side of the stage. He looked to the kid next to him. "You nervous, man?"

He had to have been a freshman. Gerald had never seen him before in his life. "Not at all. Why should I be?"

"What if you get rejected?"

The young kid laid his hands out flat in front of him. "Here's how I see it: if I don't make it, I don't make it and that's the end of it. Are you nervous?"

Gerald's eyes widened twice their normal size. "Yeah, I'm nervous! What if I suck out there?"

"Think of it this way. If you feel embarrassed about doing your routine to three people, how are you ever going to do it for the entire school?"

Gerald thought for a minute. "Good point. I'm still nervous, but a very good point."

Michael tightened his grip on the microphone as his band pumped out a fast rocky melody. "_I just need your hand to harbor. I cannot do this without you by my side. I just wanna let you go… but then take you back to my home!_"

Gerald lifted an eyebrow. "Well, I have to be better than this guy. That shouldn't be hard."

The band stopped playing and Michael stepped away from the mic a little bit. "Am I in, Miss Squire?"

The drama teacher looked up from a small notepad. "It's Misses Julienowski now. I'm married."

"Sorry, Misses Jul… Misses J."

She scribbled on the pad and looked displeased. "I'll get back to you on that one, Mike. What was the name of your band?"

He cleared his throat. "Scary Ferret."

"Yeah…" Her pen quickly slashed on the paper 'Do not invite Scary Ferret!!!' "I'll tell you on Friday. Next!"

Mike scowled and waved off of the stage to his group. The band quickly grabbed their instruments and stepped off of stage. The drummer placed his pieces into cases and stormed off angrily. Gerald stepped up and took a deep breath and moved to the microphone. "Um… my name is Gerald."

She tapped the pen at the top of the pad. "And?"

"And what?"

"What do you do? Are you going to sing? Do magic? Dance? What?"

He searched through his pocket and pulled out a cassette. "Um… I was going to rap. Do you have a tape deck?"

"You might as well just leave. We're trying to keep a rated G show here. You may be a little too explicit."

Gerald cocked his head in confusion. "I planned on keeping it clean."

She tapped the pen again and looked up. "Okay, then. The boom box is at the steps of the stage. Just hand it to that tech right there and he'll get it playing. What was your name?"

"Gerald, ma'am."

"Do you have a stage name like MC Gerald or something that you'd prefer everyone to call you?"

He tossed the tape to some kid down below the stage in the band pit and thought about a name for a minute. "How about Gerald?"

"Whatever works for you."

***

The weekend had finally arrived on the city of Hillside. The days of the audition had passed the day before and the town seemed at peace. The town's streets were clean and slick, but the near by sidewalks had about a centimeter of snow on them. It's not much, but it gave the streets a nice touch.

The sun beat down brightly on Brainy as he walked slowly down the street. When is a nicer day going to come in January? Brainy often would take long walks outside. Unfortunately, every time he did, Helga would be off in a corner confessing her love to a locket and poor Brainy would show up and get rocked in the face with Ol' Betsy. Thank God her secret had finally been revealed. It now felt safer to walk the streets. It also felt safer to walk through the alleys to take a shortcut home. A fist in the face from Helga is scarier than any kind of mugger or murderer could be.

Yet there was still one fear left when walking the street: her. The one girl who has been chasing Brainy since High School started. Just the sound of her voice brought a chill to his skin. A voice that seemed specifically designated to reverberate through the air and send all the hair on your arms and neck stand straight on end to where it hurts to bend it.

Back in fourth grade, the big question with the kids was would the guys feel any different towards girls in the future? The answer was almost a no. They all still acted shy around them, some still kept crushes, and others would run away from love's knock at their door. Even hanging out with a girl is sometimes risky. Being seen together usually meant that the two are going out, and then rumors spread until the final version ends up being something about engagement plans and a midget circus. It's not that much mature than the old "K-I-S-S-I-N-G" routine yet was far more severe.

At the irony of all the moments Brainy had just been recalling, he heard that old familiar voice from down the street behind him; "Brainy, is that you?"

He wheezed in terror at the sound of the wretched voice. Even if there wasn't an obsessed stalker behind him, he would've wheezed anyway, but that's irrelevant. He broke free of anything that had been causing him to walk slowly down the sidewalk and ran until he could find shelter. He sneaked into an alley and hopped five feet into a Dumpster. His body hit the garbage with a powerful thump as paper and banana peels flew everywhere.

***

Robert sat at the counter of Slausen's. The entire parlor was empty with the exception of him at the counter and the soda jerk behind the counter. "So, Rhonda doesn't work here today?"

Sheena shook her head as she wiped the counter. "No, she doesn't. Were you expecting her?"

"Oh, no, I was somewhat relieved." He swirled his finger in a small puddle of water on the counter in front of him. "How come whenever I come in here, there's always someone cleaning the counter? In fact, in every movie I've ever seen has someone wiping the counters of the ice cream parlor."

Sheena shrugged. "I don't know, I guess it's just out of boredom. What else am I going to do? You're the only customer in here and you haven't ordered anything."

Robert dropped his finger at his side out of view. "Sorry. I think I'll just take an egg nog shake. You still have those?"

Sheena nodded. "Yeah, we'll have them until February. Then we'll have cherry or something else red."

Robert silently agreed to nothing. He almost nodded, but stopped before the first could set in. "Okay then. I just have a craving for nog at the moment."

Sheena fumbled with the machines behind her and eventually came back to Robert with a large glass and a big metal cup with his shake inside of it. "Here ya go, Robert. That'll be three twenty-five."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the proper funds and placed them on the counter. He then dug back in and pulled out an extra dollar. "Here ya go. This is also some tip for you."

She took the money off the table, pocketed the one, and placed the rest in the register. She slammed the drawer inside and placed he elbows on the counter. "So, what's going on with you and Rhonda?"

He sipped from a thick straw and nearly choked on the thick shake. He coughed and cleared himself up to respond. "Why do you ask?"

"Well… she's always talking about you all the time."

"Rhonda has this unhealthy obsession with me and I don't know why." He sipped from the straw again. "Maybe it's my animal magnetism."

Sheena let out a small chuckle and quickly came back to her seriousness. "How do you feel about her."

He swallowed a mouthful of shake and cupped his hands in front of him on the counter. "See, back in elementary school, I had the biggest crush on her. Remember?"

"Uh-huh."

"After I was turned down by her, I found out that she liked me too. I turned her down then and since that time, I guess she has been mentally disturbed about me. Did you go to the Halloween party?"

She shook her head back in forth. "I was at home practicing for the band concert on Halloween. I wanted to go."

"Eh, you didn't miss much." He placed his finger back on the counter and swirled it once again. "She blew up about it all there. Because of me, she ended the party early."

"That doesn't sound good."

He took another sip and cleared his throat. "No, it wasn't."

Sheena lifted her elbows up. "Well, what's so bad about Rhonda? You liked her back then, why don't you like her now? Why are you running?"

He sighed and made direct eye contact with the girl. "The thing is that… I've tried so hard to forget about her. All those years ago, she didn't want to be seen with me for some reason or another. Now, she can't stop talking about me obviously." He bent his head down and admired the shine of the countertop. "I had to strive so hard to move on to someone else and other girls, and she just comes out of left field and expects me to give up everything I've achieved and run back to her."

"Well, do you like her?"

His head snapped upright and a petrified glare from his eyes burned forward to the scenery behind Sheena. "Of course, I still like her, but how do I know she's not going to bring me down again? What if it's 'Oh, Robbie, I'm rich and you're not as; bye-bye.' I don't think I can go through that crap again."

Sheena picked her rag back up and began to circularly wipe off the counter again. "Quite a situation you have."

"Yup." He held his hands together again and twiddled with his thumbs. "Hey, do you wanna go see a movie or something?"

She stopped wiping and glared scornfully. "I have a boyfriend." She then bent her head down and focused her scrubbing on a piece of stuck-on food. "Eugene."

"Huh." He stopped twiddling his thumbs and diverted his attention to his soda cup. "I'm sorry to hear that."


	20. Chapter 19: Wednesday Night

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

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Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 19: Wednesday Night

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"Hey, little apple blossom.  
What seems to be the problem?  
All the ones you tell your troubles to,  
They don't really care for you.  
  
Come and tell me what you're thinking  
'Cause just when the boat is sinking,  
A little light is blinking  
And I will come and rescue you."  
The White Stripes - Apple Blossom

Arnold sat on his bed throwing a baseball against his wall and back. Gerald occupied his computer clicking away aimlessly at nothing interesting. Arnold sighed and caught the ball, just to throw it back. "It's Tuesday, Gerald. One more day until the big date."

Gerald looked up from the screen confused but switched back once his brain kicked in and recognized what he was talking about. "Oh, yeah; Ruth Mc-Whatnot. Okay, so what?"

He caught the ball and threw it back. "I've been waiting for this for the longest time, Gerald. You don't know how much this means to me."

Gerald spun around in the computer chair and placed his hands at his forehead. "Arnold, why are you so obsessed with this girl?"

He caught the ball and kept it in his hand. "Huh?"

"Before October, you had completely forgotten about Ruth." He dragged his hands from his forehead to his chin. "Do you still like her or is this just because of fourth grade?"

"This isn't about fourth grade." He threw the ball back and forth to the wall. "It's… I still like her."

"Heh." Gerald stood up from the chair and took a seat over on Arnold's couch. "When I was in third grade… I had a crush on Nadine."

Arnold had gone to throw the ball at the wall and back to him, but had thrown off his angle from being altered by Gerald's words. The ball bounced off the wall and broke through a windowpane on Arnold's ceiling. "Nadine? You had a crush on _Nadine_?"

"Hey, it was third grade!" He looked down at his feet. "I didn't like her the year after."

"Well, why is that?"

"Because she had gone away for summer vacation to Florida." He stared at the newly formed hole in the window as he continued to speak. "I hadn't seen her for three months. When she came back, I had almost already forgotten about her. I tried to have the same feelings that I used to have… but for some reason couldn't. Things like this get fixed by time; and if it's fixed, quit trying to break it all again." His eyes shifted down as he now concentrated on a burst of broken glass that collected on Arnold's bed. "She hadn't changed, I had. I first thought I still had feelings as if I was almost obligated."

Arnold had not moved an inch from when Gerald had first confessed. "What's the point of this story."

"If you like her, go for it. If you just want her because she's finally available, quit trying."

Arnold cocked his head back insulted. "You think I'm just doing this because I used to like her."

"Maybe." He now looked him in the face sternly. "Maybe it's a payback for yourself. Maybe you'll feel if you two are left unfinished."

"Well, if I don't like her, who do you think I like?" The baseball rolled itself down through the broken window by a pigeon rolling it with its beak. "You seem to be the analyst of the hour."

Gerald looked at his shoes. "Actually, me and the guys had our money on either Lila or Helga. Lila's out of the question now."

"What?!" Arnold stood off of his bed. "How did Helga even become a possibility?"

"Do you realize the amount of respect you give her?" Gerald looked up from his shoes. "She always claimed to hate you so much, yet you were always so defensive of her. There were a bunch of other signs that kind of pointed in that direction."

"I'm like that with everybody!" Arnold flailed his arms around while he spoke as if to give his speech more importance. "I'm like that with you and I'm not trying to date you!"

Gerald held his hands in front of him. "And let's keep it that way, buddy. I don't do that."

"We're getting off of the subject. I may have talked to Ruth just because I liked her back then, but that doesn't mean I'm going out to dinner with her tomorrow just because of fourth grade." Arnold sat back down. "It's not a crush; now it's more of a friendship… almost. A relationship maybe."

"Whatever, Arnold." Gerald waved off to him. "That doesn't seem right for some reason."

***

__

Dear Diary,

Long time, no write, huh? I'm sorry about that. I haven't been myself for a while now, and I don't want to waste your pages with anyone else but me. I don't want to go back and read a novel about how Arnold turned me down after I finally confessed myself.

There is something else I want to confess to you that I haven't told anyone else: I plan on spying in on Arnold's little date with Ruth. I don't know what that guy sees in her. Ugh, she' s so friggin' UGLY! She has the personality of a chalkboard. She also has these… things… that protrude from her armpits. I think they're supposed to be breasts but I'm not sure! Her voice is so shrill and nerve wrecking; the bitch could break glass!

Anyway, I was going to follow old football head to wherever he may roam. I'm not sure yet. My plan isn't complete yet, but I have an idea. Maybe I'll just gain a tiny bit of insight onto him. Maybe he'll mention me and talk about what I've been doing wrong. Maybe the clouds will gather and a litter of puppies will magically fall from the sky on top of my umbrella! I don't know exactly what may go on, but I won't feel complete if I don't know what's going on.

Well, tomorrow's it and I can't wait for it to be over with. I feel tense and sick and I don't have to be there. I wonder how Arnold feels to finally have some time with his childhood crush. I wonder how it feels for Ruth to be the unknowing item of affection for a football-headed boy and be ADORNED at EVERY WAKING MOMENT OF HIS CHILDHOOD DAYS! AHHHH!

I'll see you later, diary. I need to collect my self and fall asleep or else I'll be awake all night.

Helga G. Pataki

***

Ruth sat down to the table where Arnold had patiently waited. "I'm _so _sorry I was late. I was held up at home and then my car was low on gas…"

Arnold motioned for her to stop. "It's okay, I understand. I hope you don't think the idea of a Coney Island as poor. I just thought it'd be sleazy to take you to the restaurant I work at."

"No, this is quite alright." Ruth picked up the menu from the side of the napkin holder. Their booth sat up against a wall with a series of small, vertical mirrors aligning it. "This was a relief actually. Usually a fancy restaurant makes me feel out of place. Like I don't belong."

"Hmm." Arnold stared at his 'complimentary' glass of water whose ice had completely melted. "Do you know what you want to see tonight? I know we didn't set a schedule for this but I brought a newspaper for the times at the theatre across the street." Arnold picked up from his side of the table a folded section of a newspaper with an ad for _The Mild Hillbillies Movie_.

Ruth picked up the paper and searched it over. "Why don't we decide when we get there? How are things in High School? What've you been doing recently?"

"Well, me and Helga just got done with a paper we had to write for Creative Writing class a few days ago. It's not due until Friday though."

Ruth scratched the side of her head. "Which one is Helga again?"

"The girl with the one eyebrow."

"The big burly, butch girl?"

"No, that's Patty."

"Huh." Ruth looked over her shoulder for a waitress. "I don't remember her."

Arnold tried refreshing her memory. "She always used to wear pink dresses with a bow in her hair and had blonde hair with pig tails."

She thought a little more and finally snapped her finger and pointed. "Oh, yeah! Her! Oh, man, what was that girl's deal? Anytime I got near you, she pushed me out of the way?"

"Huh?"

Ruth cleared her throat and clasped her fingers in front of her. "This one time at the cheese festival…"

***

Two tables behind Ruth, a newspaper bent down to reveal Helga Pataki's eyes watching Arnold. She wore a long, beige overcoat and a brown hat. The waiter came over to her and coughed to gain her attention. "Are you ready yet?"

Helga moved him away with her hand. "Nah, give me a few minutes and get off my back."

The waiter rolled his eyes. "You know, there is a three dollars and fifty cents minimum purchase price to be here. You've sat in this booth for two hours now."

It was true. She had been at the restaurant way before Arnold had. While listening over his bedroom window, she heard him mentioning being at the restaurant at seven. She had shown up at five twenty-three. Ruth was a little more than a half-hour late. "Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"If you don't order something, we can ask you to leave under the grounds that you are loitering."

Helga reached in her jacket pocket and pulled out four dollars. "I want a Yahoo soda, no ice; a plate of cheese fries, no chili; and a cup of chicken noodle soup."

The waiter looked down at the money as he added in his head. "That's only three-fourty, yet well spent."

"Fine!" Helga gave in. "Make it a _bowl_ of soup then!"

The man scribbled down her order and pranced to the kitchen. "I'll have your food shortly."

Helga put her face back in the paper and peeked at the movie times herself.

***

"…And then she shoved me into this bumper car for some reason. I think she was trying to make sure I was stuck with the sticky accelerator, but I think in the end it was her car."

Arnold rested his head up with this hand, thanks to the support his elbow gave from the table. "Wow, I never knew any of that."

Ruth started to chuckle lowly. "Yeah, those were crazy times. So, how's Helga today You two getting along?"

Arnold's thoughts paced through his head exhausted. _God, this is like talking to… well, not grandma… it's definitely not like talking to grandpa… it's like playing twenty questions. Why does she want to know all of this stuff? _"Yeah, we're… somewhat on the up-and-up. There's been some friction I don't like to talk about." His cheeks began to lightly grow red. "It's a little embarrassing."

The waitress finally arrived at their table. "Hello! My name is Cindy! May I get you something to drink or are you ready to order?"

***

The waiter came back with a large tray. With the food on it, the circular tray was almost a third of the way full. He started to put the food in front of Helga. "Here's your stuff. I already paid your bill, so you can leave whenever you feel like it."

Helga raised question at the large tray. "Was all that really necessary? You brought me my drink ten minutes ago; all you had left were plates. Two plates, at that. You could've held one in each hand."

The waiter raised his nose in a snobbish way that seemed hypocritical in a Coney Island. "You better hope your tip is as big as your mouth."

"Or what, your gonna kick me out for being a bad tipper?"

***

"High School was great." Ruth smiled as she spoke. "I'm surprised we never had any classes together while I was there."

"I thought we did…" Arnold trailed off into his own memories. "Maybe we didn't. So is college all it's cracked up to be?"

"Huh!" She took a sip of water from a glass Cindy had just brought over. "It's that and so much more."

"Really? What, is it a party every night like I've heard?"

***

Helga peered closely through two small holes in the newspaper. Every once in a while, she'd pull it down to have a better look but right now it was suiting finally. Numerous thoughts circled her brain. _What's _he_ thinking right now? What movie are they going to see? Why has Ruth always seen more attention than I have?_ The answers were all predictable but still vacant from her mind.

It was then that an old, familiar voice interrupted her concentration. Over shoulder at a counter stool sat a man with gray hair (He had dyed it brown but he wasn't fooling anybody). His raspy and harsh voice skinned the insides of Helga's ears like sandpaper. "One number four dinner special and a cup of coffee."

Helga slowly turned her head as if expecting to see the devil surrounded in hellfire at the moment she caught glimpse of the character. She turned back once she realized it wasn't possible to see the man and not reveal her face. Another voice next to him, this one was also familiar, started speaking. "So, the lady kicked you out again?"

The man agreed, "Yeah, but I don't blame her. It's all been my fault."

Helga immediately recognized the voice of the stranger. She moved her arms to the back of the booth so the paper faced the seat. She peeked through one of the holes in the paper to confirm her belief.

***

"What is it, Arnold?"

Arnold squinted to make sure of what he was seeing. Helga's profile was clearly visible from Arnold's table now that she had turned her face to the back of her seat. "Helga's here."

Ruth looked behind her at the booth two down from her and snapped her head back quickly to Arnold. "I wonder why she's here."

"No doubt spying on me." Arnold cocked his head in confusion. "What is she doing though?"

"Well, how do you know she's spying on you? That's a rude assumption to make."

Arnold stared at Ruth. "You don't know her well, do you?"

***

"Why don't you just tell her what for, you know? Take your stand as man of the house?"

The waitress behind the counter brought Bob his mug of coffee. "Usually, it's not hard to do. Miriam used to sleep all day before she left. Now it's like… like she has so much more energy."

"You don't need it, Bob." Nick placed an elbow on the counter but dangled his hand off of the edge. "You should get rid of her. Did you have a pre-nup'?"

"Yeah, we do." Bob ripped open three packages of sugar and dumped them into his cup. "We had some divorce issues a few years ago and during the battle, I asked her to sign a pre-nuptial agreement. She put up little hesitation. Told me that if we ever were to divorce or separate again, her mother could support her. I'd still have to pay child support for Helga." Bob stirred his spoon inside of the mug.

The waitress came back and brought Nick a cup of coffee too. "Yeah, what's the deal with the kid again? If she doesn't live in your domicile, do you need to pay support?"

"I don't know. I think I would." He turned towards Nick. "I should've never kicked her out. Everything would've been so much better had she stayed. Miriam wouldn't have thrown me out; I wouldn't have three hundred and something dollars of unopened Christmas presents at the bottom of my closet. Nick, I blew it all to hell."

"Hey, stop with that." Nick was now pointing. "I'm not gonna sit here while you put on some chick-flick weeping session in front of me."

"Sorry." He turned away and took another sip. "I've lost all communication with my daughter, Nick. She won't even talk to me."

Nick spoke in his fast paced way to Bob, "Look, how about I take you to the bar and load you with alcohol; you'll forget about it tomorrow morning. What's the big deal anyway? It's just one less problem in your life."

Bob sighed. "It's one _more_ problem in my life."

***

Helga put the paper down and turned with her back to the seat. _It's just one less problem in your life. It's one _more _problem in my life. _That was enough, she didn't want to hear anymore. Nick Vermicelli was right; Helga had been just one big pain in the ass ever since she was born, bringing everyone down with her as she fell.

The hurtful part was that Bob saw her as a problem also.

Staring down at the plate of cheese fries and bowl of soup, she no longer had any appetite. It's amazing the difference a few minutes can make. One minute, you're worried about why the one you love has chosen another; the next minute, you couldn't care less if they had been married for thirty years with twelve kids.

__

Well, I'm not going to sit here all night and wait for them to finish their meal. I'm gonna go see a movie, with or without them. Helga folded up the newspaper and shoved it deep in a hidden pocket of her jacket. She left the food on the table and walked wearily out of the door.

***

Ruth peered over her shoulder at the blonde-haired girl leaving. "See, she left before we did. She didn't even glance up at us. She wasn't spying."

"I don't know." The waitress had returned with their entrees on a large dish. "I think there's more to it." Arnold looked up at Cindy. "Is that really necessary? There are only two plates. Couldn't you have just held one with each hand?"

Cindy smiled falsely at Arnold. "It's just what I have to do."

"Yes, but it'd seem much easier if you'd just…"

Ruth touched Arnold's hand that had been lying on the table. "Hey, Arnold, just forget about it. What's playing tonight again?"

"I thought we were going to decide when we get there."

"I know, but I thought we should just get a head start and know what we're facing."

***

Helga's car pulled up into the theatre parking lot. The place wasn't that crowded. Usually, theatres draw the biggest crowds on Fridays and the weekends. Who in their right mind would schedule a date on a Wednesday?

She stepped out of the car and instantly saw a familiar face on the steps to the entrance. "Hey, Phoebe. What're you doing here?"

The girl looked up from the ground and saw her friend. "Hey, Helga. I work here. I'm kind of on a break."

"You work here? When did this develop?"

"December." She looked back at the same spot of the concrete she had been staring at before.

"Well, hey, can you get me a discount?" Helga smiled from ear to ear, exposing every single one of her teeth.

A smirk appeared on Phoebe's face. "I probably could. What do you want to see?"

"I don't know, Phoebe, what seems to be good tonight? Any suggestions?"

She placed her hands onto the ground and pushed herself up to stand in front of Helga. "I thought that 'A Walk through the Forest' was good."

Helga rubbed her chin. "Is that some kind of sappy romance movie? I was thinking of seeing something entertaining, like something with ninjas or terrorists. Maybe something funny."

"Well, there is 'Carnegie Park', 'Only Sometimes', 'Darkness Dwellers', 'The Adventures of Goat Boy', 'Harbinger Social Club'…"

"What was that last one before… the last one?"

"'The Adventures of Goat Boy'?"

Helga nodded. "Yeah, what's that?"

"That has Jim Breuer and Gilbert Godfried…"

Helga stopped Phoebe. "I'm sold."

"But, Helga, the next show isn't for fourty-five minutes."

"I can wait."

***

Arnold pulled up to the theatre and quickly rushed Ruth out of the car. "Are you sure you want to see this one? It starts in five minutes."

She started walking fast with him to the entrance of the theatre. "Yeah, I heard some things about it from a friend. Besides, you don't want to sit through some sappy romance movie, do you?"

__

Um… yeah… I kind of did want to with you. "Well, okay. We better get in there quick then."

Ruth and Arnold were almost jogging to the doors.

***

As they moved through the doors, the Paramount Pictures opening sequence had just disappeared from the screen. Arnold searched through the dark for a seat. He quietly whispered to Ruth, "There's hardly anybody in here."

"It's Wednesday at a cheesy comedy; they're not going to have a full house." They took a seat in almost the exact center of the theatre. "I love the movies."

Arnold nodded as they sat down. "Me too."

A voice from the back of the theatre squawked at them, "Hey, pipe down!"

Arnold lifted his hand in surrender. "Sorry."

The movie started. A narrator's voice started to speak, "In a laboratory in the basement of…"

Ruth turned to Arnold. "Is that James Earl Jones' voice?"

"Didn't he die last year?"

***

"Hey!" Helga shouted as she through her bag of popcorn. "Shut your friggin' hole!"

She saw as the paper bag went soaring through the air and landed on the football-headed silhouette twelve seats in front of her. _Football-headed? Arnold?_ The bag hit his head and sent popcorn flying everywhere. "Aw, crap."

She gripped the back of the seat in front of her and slid down to where she couldn't be seen.

***

Arnold turned his head back. "Hey, who threw that?"

There was only one other person behind him: a black man with dreadlocks. "Ay, it be some crazy girl back there, man. She be throwin' and hollerin' all types of what not."

When you look back on a theatre, people's faces aren't that hard to see. The light from the screen illuminates almost everything. If there had been a girl behind him, he would've seen it. He turned back to Ruth. "I have a suspicious feeling."

"Well, maybe if we stay quiet, we won't cause any problems."

Arnold sat next to Ruth in the theatre, debating to himself whether or not he should put his arm on the back of her chair.

***

Helga lifted her face up from the back of the chair to see if Arnold was looking her way. _Well, this'll make an interesting story at school tomorrow._ She quietly snuck out of theatre and back to the concession stand to get another bag of popcorn.

It's just another day in the life of Helga Pataki.


	21. Chapter 20: Crimeny

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

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Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 20: Crimeny

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"Come on, baby, let's get together.  
I love you, baby. I love you forever.  
I'm tryin' hard to stay away.  
What made you change? What did I say?"  
Queen - Need Your Loving Tonight

Helga closed her locker to see Arnold's oddly shaped head leaning on the locker next to hers. "What's your problem, Helga?"

Helga scowled. "I don't know what you're talking about." She placed her folders under her arm and started walking to class.

Arnold stepped fast to catch up. "Helga, you know what I'm talking about. Why were you following me?"

"I wasn't following you." As Arnold walked along side of her, she never turned her eyes or head to talk to him face to face. "What'd you do last night? Have a nice time?"

"Helga!" Arnold grabbed Helga by the shoulders and swung her into a locker to make eye contact. "Why do you insist on making my life miserable? Why?"

Helga pushed Arnold off of her as dusted her shoulders off. "I'm not trying to make your life miserable! I'm just…"

Arnold interrupted her sentence. "You know, for someone who seems to 'love' me so much, I'd think you'd have some courtesy or at least respect for my privacy!"

Helga's eyes bulged farther than they had before and quickly narrowed in anger at Arnold. "I have respect for your privacy, Arnold, it's just…" Her eyebrow lifted and her eyes opened more in a sympathetic manner. "You wouldn't understand. At first, I… I didn't want… Arnold… I can't explain it without taking a half-hour and I have to get to class. You do to."

Helga went to walk away but Arnold pushed her to the locker again. "Screw that, this is more important."

"Arnold," Helga said as she wiped his left hand off yet again. "Can I explain this to you second hour? Please?"

The bell rung in the hallway but Arnold kept her to the locker with his right hand. "You're already tardy, you might as well explain."

"Okay!" Helga sighed and scowled at Arnold. "Get your hand off of me and I'll tell you."

Arnold backed off and stuck his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry."

Helga once again brushed at her shoulders. "I was going to follow you but I wasn't going to mess up your date with Ruth."

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know, Arnold! Sheer curiosity? I did and that's enough! But then my dad showed up and I decided to leave. The movie was completely a coincidence."

Arnold crossed his arms. "So when you saw I was there, you decided to throw popcorn at me to try and ruin my date? Why?"

"That's _not_ how it was! I didn't know it was you! I'm…" Tears started to form at the bottoms of her eyes. "I'm sorry, Arnold!"

"Helga…" Arnold placed his hand at his forehead. "Look, I'm sorry. Don't cry."

Helga crazily leapt at Arnold and threw her arms around him. "Arnold… can I please go to class now?"

A hall monitor had just then turned the corner. "Why aren't you two in class?"

Helga sobbed lightly on Arnold's back as he tried turning towards the lady. "Miss Mallard, she's just… having a personal episode. Family troubles, you understand."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you need to go home, girl?" Miss Mallard walked up and ducked down slightly to try and reach eye level with Helga, had she been looking at the hall monitor. "Do you need to talk to a counselor?"

Helga muffled her voice through Arnold's shirt. "I'm fine. I'm gonna be all right. Just give me a minute."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Helga wasn't about to stop now. Being that close to Arnold was better than any class. "I'll be fine."

Arnold looked at the hall monitor as soon as she had stood up straight again. "I'll just get her to class in a little bit." He carefully pried her off of his back and stood her in front of him. "Are you ready to go to class, now? Can you handle it?"

Helga snorted in a huge amount of snot and nodded yes. "Please help me there. I need you to escort me."

Arnold scowled at Helga but turned and smiled at Miss Mallard. "She'll be fine. I'll just take her to class."

Arnold and Helga started to walk away, Arnold with an arm on Helga's shoulder patting her in a false comfort. Miss Mallard stood in the same spot with her head cocked sideways. "Well, do you two need a late pass? Without it, that tardy's going to be inexcusable."

Arnold turned around and pointed Helga in the same direction. "It'd be so kind of you if you could do that for us."

Helga had now become deeply into the act of being depressed over a family problem and using Arnold as her crutch. "Please do. Arnold should not suffer so due to my horrible life. I am so sorry, Arnold."

Miss Mallard held up a finger. "You two stay right there for a moment. I'll be right back. What are you two's names?"

They both answered: "Arnold." "Helga."

Miss Mallard walked off into the main office. As soon as she was out of the picture, Arnold took his arm off of Helga. "What was all that for?"

"Ah, quit whining like you didn't like it." Helga flattened out her shirt with her hands. "It doesn't matter anyway, we're getting to class with an excused tardy. I told you what you wanted to know, now leave me alone."

"Why can't you just leave _me_ alone, Helga? Why do you always have to be right behind me?"

"Because!" Helga grabbed at her hair and gritted her teeth. She really had nothing new to expose, but it's hard to think of an explanation why she had been there. "Because I'm crazy about you, and I'm… shall we say, addicted to you."

"Addicted?"

Helga then became very serious. "I really don't want nor expect you to understand, but I'm trying to stay away."

"Helga, if you want to be my friend, be my friend." Arnold placed a hand back on her shoulder but was now standing in front of her instead of to the side. "If you want to do something, we'll do something but when I want to have a personal date with someone else, leave me alone!"

Miss Mallard came back from the office with two small slips of paper. She handed one to each of them. "Alright, just give this to your teachers when you get there."

Arnold placed the slip of paper in his pocket and nodded. "Yeah, thanks Miss Mallard. "Come on, Helga."

He held his hand out and Helga gripped it. In her other hand, she held on to the pass. "Thank you so much, Miss Mallard."

"Don't mention it." The hall monitor walked away from them but was later heard yelling, "Hey, you with the glasses! Put that down!"

Arnold let go of Helga's hand. "Don't spy on me anymore."

"Fine." Helga turned and started walking to class. "You weren't walking me in the right direction anyway."

***

Helga sat next to Robert in the back row of the classroom. "Hey, Robbie-Bob. What's shakin'?"

Robert pointed over to Rhonda who sat in the front row three rows to the right of him. "Watch."

Helga looked over at Rhonda but then briefly scanned the room. "Um, what am I supposed to look at. Also, where's Misses Keeling?"

Robert held up a hand to separate him from Helga. "Quiet! She went out to her car to get her lesson plan. Watch Rhonda right…" A digital beeping sound rung in the air. "Now."

Rhonda looked at her watch and hit a button on it. She then pulled out from her folder a large photo of Robert and hugged it. When she was done, she placed it on the desk and gently touched Robert's hair. She then slid the photo back in the folder.

Robert turned to Helga. "This happens everyday at exactly seven forty-three. _Everyday_ she does this." He snapped his fingers and took Helga's concentration off of Rhonda. "Leave Arnold alone. From the victim's point of view, this stuff just gets creepy."

"That girl has lost her mind." Helga squinted over at Rhonda. "What kind of watch is that?"

"I don't know." Robert looked over at Rhonda also. "Somehow she found a gold-banded dial watch with a digital alarm. It's boggling." He turned to Helga again, but this time she immediately turned her head towards him too. "Yet for some reason I want one now."

"Even I'm not _that_ obsessed." Helga stuck her nose up.

"Yeah, right. Where were you last night?"

Helga glared down at Robert. "God, who told you about that?"

"Ha!" Robert pointed at Helga in an almost accusative manner. "I knew Arnold had a date last night but I was only guessing that you followed him. Helga, you have to stop doing that."

"What do you care anyway?" Helga looked away from Robert. "You don't know what it's like."

"Sure, Helga." Robert moved his hands about as he spoke to her. "When you cross the line of obsessed friend to obsessed stalker, it sucks being on the receiving end. You're probably scaring the poor guy to death."

"Rob, I just took a lot of this shit out in the hall from Arnold himself. I really don't need a second helping."

Misses Keeling, her French teacher, had then arrived in the class. "Bonjour, class."

The entire congregation spoke simultaneously, "Bonjour Madame Keeling."

Helga sighed. "I hate this class _so_ much."

Robert turned to her. "Yeah, but when Arnold takes you on your honeymoon to Paris, how are you going to know what anybody's saying to you."

Helga thought and nodded. "Good point."

Misses Keeling looked out into the sea of students. "Helga, quelle heure est-il?"

Helga shrugged. "Um… Je ne sais pas?"

The teacher pointed at the clock. "Helga, quelle heure est-il?"

Helga looked up to the clock. "Oh, the time. Uh… Il est… huit heures moins… le quart?"

The teacher nodded. "Oui! Il est du soir ou du matin?"

"Um… du matin?" She cringed waiting to be declared wrong.

"Uh-huh, oui! Parfait!" She walked to the other side of the class and started asking random questions in French.

Helga turned to Robert. "Did she just say something about ice cream? I could've sworn she said something about a parfait."

***

"Arnold, how's life treatin' ya so far?"

He slumped down in the seat next to Gerald in Chemistry. "Terrible. Just miserable."

"Yeah, I saw you weren't on the bus today." Gerald scratched the back of his head. "Where were ya, man?"

"I drove. Plus, I missed it. Woke up too late. Alarm clock was broken. I arrived at school on time though."

Gerald reflected on Arnold's statement, "Don't you have twenty million of those clocks? Why is that?"

"It's a long story." The teacher in the front of the class droned on and on of nothing Arnold understood. Somehow, though, he was able to take notes through the babbling and talk to Gerald at the same time. "You won't believe what happened last night with Ruth."

"I can't tell where you're going with this, buddy." Gerald lifted an eyebrow in question. "Was it an extremely good night or an extremely terrible night?"

"Gerald, it was both."

***

You see; dinner lasted for a while but there was nothing really important about it. It was just at this small Coney Island downtown. While we're there, we noticed that Helga is following us, and she was sitting at a table a few seats behind Ruth. She left so it wasn't that big of a problem, but that wasn't the end of it.

We went to the theatre and saw this movie, _The Adventures of Goat Boy_ or something. Ever seen it? It's a terrible, terrible movie. Anyway, during the beginning of the movie, she keeps yelling at Ruth and me and throws a whole bag of popcorn at my head. After that, Ruth went up to buy some drinks. I offered but she insisted. She didn't want me getting up although I had already stood up to go. She said I was already paying for the whole evening and that it was time she chipped in a little. I still paid for all of it.

Apparently, while she went up to buy some stuff, her and Helga met up at the concession stand. Her and Ruth had some words, and Helga ended up punching Ruth in the stomach.

***

"What?" Gerald backed off in disbelief. "You're joking, right?"

"I kid you not, man. She must've wailed on Ruth pretty hard."

Gerald nodded. "Well, continue."

***

Anyway, the punch in the stomach becomes a brawl. They're both fighting and scrapping and causing a scene. Pretty soon, the manager kicks them out, giving Helga a one-year ban. She can't step foot in that theatre for an entire year. They now keep a picture by the register to tell.

Anyway, I sat in that theatre for a half-hour before I became suspicious. Time flies when you're watching a movie. I looked throughout the lobby and she wasn't there. Thinking that she had left me at the theatre alone, I went back and finished the movie.

During the last few minutes of the movie, an usher came up to me and explained the whole situation… lightly. The movie had just finished anyway, and I left to go meet her. Since it was so cold out, they let her wait for the movie to get out inside in a private room. Helga had already left in her car, and for some reason they didn't bother telling me when it happened. She left during the beginning of the movie and waited in a small room for an hour and a half.

Oddly enough, she's holding no grudge against me, but utter hatred against Helga. We left and I took her down to Slausen's to make up for all of it. When I finally took her home at ten-thirty, she asked if we could try it all again some other night next week. She wants me to call her next Friday. She has some college stuff she has to take care of at the moment.

***

"Arnold, getting' in with the older women. My man."

"So it was a terrible date but it had a fair ending." Arnold tapped his fingers on the desk. "Things happen sometimes that just make you say… 'Hey, cool.' This was one of them."

Miss Riley was facing towards Arnold from the other side of the room. "Well, as deep and meaningful as that wisdom is, I'm gonna have to ask you to either stay quiet and pay attention or leave my class."

Arnold shot straight in his desk and locked his hands together in front of him. "Yes, Miss Riley."

The entire class let out a mild wave of laughter. When it was over, Miss Riley turned back to the board. "Anyway, covalent bonding…"

Gerald patted his friend on the back. "Arnold, you're a bold kid."


	22. Chapter 21: Good Company

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

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Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 21: Good Company

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"You were my sunrays.  
Without you, girl, there was no days.  
Never dreamt I'd speak the phrase:  
Now what the fuck just happened?"  
N.E.R.D. - Stay Together

"Helga, I have to have a word with you."

She sat down in the chair in front of the counselor's desk. "Yes, Mister Howell?"

The fat, middle-aged man took off his glasses, diverting more attention to his humongous bald spot on the top of his head. It wasn't even a bald spot in a sense; more like a "U" of hair that circled his head. "How are you doing in night school?"

"Night school? What?" Helga was indeed confused.

"Well, you're missing a credit. Didn't we speak about this at the beginning of the year?"

She then remembered. "Oh, yeah. I said I was going to do some community service to make that up."

"And how is that going?"

She looked down at her shoes. "Well, it's not doing that good. I haven't applied anywhere yet."

"Helga." The man rubbed at his brow heavily. "You need to make up one-hundred eighty hours of community service to be able to graduate. It's February 13. I mean, how long are you going to put this off for?"

"I did apply at a bunch of places but they never called me back, Mister Howell." She crossed her legs together. "I've been trying hard. I also moved a few months ago…"

"Helga, a few months is long enough. That's more than enough time."

"After school today, I will leave and go to the community center and work this all out." Helga placed her hands on the desk. "As soon as that bell rings."

"Okay, Helga, but this is your last chance." The counselor grabbed a stack of papers and hit them on the desk to make them all uniform. "One more screw up, and you won't be graduating this year. Now I looked at your first semester grades and they're not terrible. You have to pass every class this semester in order to graduate _and_ you have to make that credit up. Have you ever thought about zero hour?"

"Oh, he-" Helga stopped herself before she said something she'd regret. "No, I can't. It's just not possible. I can't wake up that early."

"Well, you get that extra academic credit in or you'll have to take another semester. You could also take summer school."

"Nah, I can't afford that either." She stood up from her chair. "I have to go back to class. I'll get right on that, Mister Howell."

"You better, Helga." The man took the papers he had been messing with and stashed them in a nearby filing cabinet. "Don't forget."

***

Helga sat at her desk in math class and spoke to an ear that didn't exist, "Man, that was a waste of my time."

Arnold looked up from his class work. "What'd they want you down there for?"

Helga looked at the paper placed on her desk left by the teacher in her absence and then over to Arnold. "What do you care?"

Arnold sighed and put his pencil down. "I just want to know, Helga."

"Well, if it's any of your business which it's not, I'm a credit short of graduating." Helga cracked her knuckles. "No big deal."

"How long have you known this?"

"Since the beginning of the year." She made a 'pshhh' noise with her mouth. "I don't tell you _everything_, you know. I don't have to."

"Helga, this is a serious problem." Arnold turned his body in the desk and laid his feet over the support bar running from the back of his chair to the front of his desk. "You do realize that if you don't make up that credit, you'll be here for another year."

"Another semester, actually." She looked at her nails bent into the palm of her hand as if trying to act classy. "So what? It's just another semester?"

"Helga, don't you want to go to college?"

"Yeah, I _want_ to go to college, but you have to take in account the probability of me actually _going _to college. Without Bob paying for it, there's no way I can get in; and for somebody a credit short of graduating, I think that alone says my GPA won't be high enough to meet college standards."

"Haven't you ever heard of community college?" Arnold shifted in his seat. "They'll take anybody."

"I'd rather shove my feet in a blender and hit puree and live life as a footless cripple than go to a community college." She raised half of her eyebrow at Arnold's sitting position. "Is that even comfortable? That looks really painful."

"It sucks." Arnold moved his legs and sat normally. "An education is an education, and if you stay at a community college long enough, you can be transferred to a normal one."

"Where are you going?"

Arnold sat silently, beaten by the girl with the one eyebrow. "I'm graduating. I've applied to places. Where have you applied to?"

"I've applied to places! I've applied to a million colleges!" Helga crossed her arms and turned her head back. "I've applied to so many, I don't think I have anymore to apply to."

"Name one."

Helga sat in her chair, trying to think of a college to name to spite Arnold. "Harvard."

"What state is Harvard in?"

"How should I know?" Helga pounded a fist on her desk. "I just filled out the application!"

"No, you didn't."

"Well, I did apply to _one _college."

"Where?"

Helga sighed and looked at the football-headed kid. "Alright, I haven't applied anywhere. Are you happy? Do you feel happy being right for the fifty millionth time in your life?"

Arnold tried to react to the injustice. "Helga, I-"

"You know what? Forget it. I don't care. Everything'll be alright." Helga reached into her purse that she kept beside her and pulled out a plastic twenty-ounce bottle of Yahoo soda. "I'm on it."

Arnold watched as she took a sip of the cola. "Do you need some help?"

She nearly gagged on the dark liquid. She cleared her throat and glared at Arnold. "No, I'll be fine."

"Okay, Helga." Arnold picked his pen back up and went back to work. Fifteen more minutes left in the day and he'd be home free.

***

Arnold shut the door behind him, flipping through the mail as soon as he was in the house. "Grandpa?" He started walking up the stairs, calling the name again. "Grandpa?"

He opened the door to where his grandparents now stayed. The room was vacant. He stepped inside and looked around, still finding no one. "Grandpa? Grandma?"

Arnold rushed out of the room and to the door a few spaces down where he knew someone would be. He pounded on the door. "Mister Kokoshka! Oskar!"

The bearded man opened the door in a wife beater and khakis, rubbing his eyes. "Arnold, where's the fire? It's two in the afternoon. You're cutting in on my sleepy time."

"Mister Kokoshka, have you seen my grandparents?" Arnold peaked to the corner of the door, still keeping an eye on the hall. "I can't find them."

"I thought they would have told you." Oskar stepped inside of his room. "Come in, Arnold. Make yourself comfortable."

Arnold followed the man into his room and took a seat in his recliner. "Would you like some soda?"

"Um, sure." Arnold looked at the floor and all the garbage on it: old newspapers, pieces of popcorn, and multi-colored patches of floor from drink spills that were never tended to. The entire room smelled like an old shoe after a ten-mile hike. "Can't you just tell me where they are?"

"No, you'll want to be cozy when you here." Oskar cracked the can of Yahoo open. "This is gonna run you a dollar fifty."

__

It's the same old Oskar. Arnold gripped the arms of the chair. "What? What happened to them?"

Oskar handed him the open can of cola and took a seat on a nearby chair. "Oh, nothing big. Don't worry, I'll tell you. First, I want the dollar fifty."

"Oskar! Just tell me!"

The bearded man sighed. "Okay, I'll tell you but then you pay me the dollar fifty." He looked down at some of the garbage on his own floor. "Right around noon, Grandpa started having some chest pains. Apparently he suffered a stroke or heart attack. One of the two, I can't remember."

Arnold spit the soda he had been drinking across the room and managed to get some on Oskar. "What?"

"Hey, you're gonna have to pay for this." Oskar wiped at his shirt. "Now I am all sticky."

"My grandpa getting sent to the hospital is 'nothing big'? Is he all right?" Arnold tried to breathe but it was more challenging than it seemed. "What hospital was he sent to?"

"How should I know? Probably the one down in forty-seventh street." Oskar stopped wiping at his shirt with his hands and held out his right to accept payment. "I'll need two dollars now. Fifty cents to clean up this mess."

"I gotta go, Oskar." Arnold set his pop can on the floor and rushed out the door. "I'll be right back."

Oskar rushed to the end of his door but didn't step foot into the hallway. He yelled out from the entrance to his room, "Hey, Arnold! What about the two bucks?"

***

"Yeah, let me see." The receptionist typed at her computer for a few seconds, making odd facial expressions at the computer screen hidden from Arnold's view. "Yes, Phil would be on the third floor."

"Thanks." Arnold quickly took off from the desk and to the elevator.

"Wait!" cried the receptionist. "Don't you want to know the room number?"

It was too late. The football-headed teen had already stepped on the elevator.

***

Arnold searched door after door until he found his grandparents. Grandpa was in a hospital bed under a blanket with Gertrude close by his side holding his hand. "Grandma, is he alright?"

She looked up at her grandchild. She answered in a mellow voice, "Yes, he'll be fine and be able to go home tonight. The doctors want to run a few more tests on him before they let him go."

Phil lifted his head up with his eyes almost shut. "Who is that? Jimmy?"

Arnold walked over to the bed. "It's Arnold."

The old man opened his eyes. "Oh, yes, Arnold. How ya doin', short man?"

"Good. What happened?"

"Ah, I was hungry and decided to eat some pop-tarts." His grandfather shrugged. "Supposedly, I had a diabetic attack. I guess I didn't see it coming. I didn't even know that there were any diabetics in the boarding house, let alone ones who would attack an old man like me."

"Grandpa…"

"I know." The withered old man laughed in his bed and grabbed at his stomach. "I'm gonna be fine, Arnold. Don't worry."

"How can I not worry?" Arnold pulled up a seat next to his grandmother. "I come home and you two are gone with no note or explanation. Then I have to hear from Kokoshka what he thinks happened."

"You mean he didn't call your school?" Phil turned his head over to Gertie. "You said you told Oskar to call his school!"

His grandmother stood up. "I shall not be bound by the chains of society!"

Phil waved a hand, pushing her off. "You know, you just can't marry good help these days."

Arnold bent in closer. "How long have you been here?"

"Since seven thirty this morning." He shifted in his bed as a loud rumbling filled the room from his stomach. "Ooh, you two may wanna leave."

"Why?"

"They gave me a sugar-free raspberry cobbler today with lunch." The grumbling continued. "Pretty soon, this bedpan under me is going to be filled. You might want to do yourself a favor. You too, Pookie."

His grandmother shook her fist in the air. "I shall not be told where to go! I shall not be told where to move."

"Fine, suit yourself." He moved his head to Arnold. "Run, Arnold! Run for your life!"

***

"That's pretty messed up, Arnold." Gerald walked along the street with his friend. "I mean, Oskar offering you a drink. It's no surprise he tried charging it to you, but still… I've never heard him offer anything to anyone."

"Gerald, my grandpa is in the hospital right now." He kicked an empty can into the middle of the street as he walked along. "Isn't that just a little more important than Mister Kokoshka's hospitality?"

"Yeah, that's important, but that could happen at anytime. Oskar asking you inside his house to have a pop is like Sally's Comet: you won't see it again for a long time." They continued walking down Thirty-fourth Street. "Unless he was doing to cut back some money from his rent. Has he paid this month yet?"

"No, but I can't throw him out. I'm such a pushover." They stopped at the intersection crosswalk and waited for the white sign of the stick figure crossing the street to show. "The thing is that what if his health stays like this? What if he doesn't fully heal or eats something he shouldn't be eating again? What if this goes on when I have to go away for college?"

"Que sara sara, my brother." Gerald put a hand on Arnold's shoulder. "If it'll make you feel better, take him with you. If he's going to jeopardize his health, he'll do it with you or without you. The only difference in leaving with you is that _you're_ gonna have to be the one to find him."

"Gerald!" The light finally shone and they started to cross the street. "I just feel like I need to be there for him. Even high school now is taking me away from caring for his condition."

"Does anybody else in the boarding house know about your grandpa's condition?"

Arnold nodded. "Oh, yeah. He's never been one to keep anything private. He'll usually tell anybody and everybody his problems."

"Do any of the other boarders eat breakfast there?"

Arnold thought about it. "Sometimes. There's a few that don't."

"Think about this, Arnold. Why couldn't someone have stopped him?" Gerald stood in front of Arnold to stop him from moving forward. "Your grandpa had to have snuck whatever it was that he ate _while nobody was looking._ Otherwise, someone would have surely stopped him."

"It was pop-tarts."

"Huh." Gerald and Arnold started to walk forward again. "I don't think pop-tarts would send him to the hospital."

"I checked in on it. He ate the whole box."

Gerald leaned back a little in shock. "Damn!"

"It was a sixteen-pouch value pack. The doctor says he's lucky to be alive."

"That right there is why I don't eat that stuff." Gerald leaned forward and whistled. "I don't think I'd have the stomach to eat one of the eight pack boxes, let alone a sixteen pack."

"I don't understand what you're getting at."

"Arnold, even if you were to quit your job and drop-out of school, your grandpa would still try to sneak in that sort of junk while you're not looking. You can't keep tabs on him all the time."

"I know that, but I can't just sit and do nothing about it." Arnold placed his hands at his temples. "I can't just say 'whatever will be will be' or whatever you said earlier."

"I'm not even sure what I said, it's some old white girl song."

They had finally reached Chez Paris and stopped outside of it. "Well, I have to go. It's time for me to work."

"Wait, you're just going to go in there with street clothes?" Gerald was confused. "I thought this place had a dress code for the waiters and what not."

"They do. I asked Sid if I could borrow one of his suits because I need to get all of mine dry cleaned." Arnold opened the door to the restaurant. "He's letting me borrow it until tomorrow. I'm gonna change in the men's room."

"Okay then." Gerald started to walk away. "See ya, Arnold," he shouted as he walked away.

"See ya, Gerald."


	23. Chapter 22: Under The Rain

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

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Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 22: Under the Rain 

________

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"If I change my mind about you,  
I guarantee there's one thing I won't do:  
That's give a second chance to you"  


  * Ray J - Crazy

Arnold knocked on an orange door on a large house in the neighborhood. Finally, a tall and skinny man with long, black hair and an AC/DC shirt answered the door. "Yeah, what can I do for ya, little buddy?"

Arnold was a little bit choked up. "Um… is Ruth here?"

The man grabbed a beer can out of view from the door and grinned. "Yeah, she's asleep right now. Who are you?"

"I'm Arnold." He still was confused about the man answering the door. "Are you her brother or something?"

"Ah-ha!" The man in the doorway busted out into laughter. "Yeah, sure, man! Me, her brother!" He took another sip of the can and threw it off into the living room. "Nah, I can tell her you stopped by though."

A voice arose from a room inside the house. "Hey, Dan, who is it?"

Arnold's face perked up from the sound of Ruth's yelling. "Ruth?"

The man pushed against Arnold from entering by reflex. "Nah, she's just waking up. You don't want to go back there."

"Well, I just wanted to see if she wanted to do something tonight. It _is_ Valentine's Day."

The guy at the door backed off a little bit. "Wait a minute… yeah, she's going to need an hour or two. Why don't you call here at about… what time is it right now?"

Arnold glanced at his watch. "Two thirty-nine."

"Yeah, call here at around three twenty or so. She'll be up by then."

Arnold stood confused but went along with the orders. "Okay, then. Will you tell her I stopped by?"

The man nodded to confirm 'yes'. "I'll do it as soon as she's fully awake."

Arnold walked backwards sown the stoop. "Okay. Well… I'll call later."

"Yeah, you do that. Bye." And with that, the man slammed the door in Arnold's face. He backed completely off the stoop and continued down the street.

***

A person in a trench coat, hovering over his mail slot blocked Arnold from the door of the boarding house. "Helga, what in God's name are you doing?"

The blonde-haired girl spun around quickly and grasped the door to stop her from slipping off of the stoop. "Arnold… I… thought you weren't home so I… I…"

"What did you just slip in my mail slot?"

The girl gripped her palms together and thought of something to cover-up for her actions. "I… Okay, now listen carefully. I was checking my mail and somehow, by reasons unknown, I ended up getting one of the boarding houses letters. So, being the Good Samaritan I am; I took it upon myself to deliver this letter to your house without opening it. I figured you probably weren't home, so I dropped it in your mail slot."

Arnold shifted his brow in question. "You mean to tell me that you dressed yourself in a trench coat to innocently give me my mail that mysteriously ended up at your house?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm telling you." Helga jumped over the railing of the stoop and ran down the street and around the corner.

Arnold scratched his head and opened the door to his house. As he closed it, he noticed a small, pink envelope on his floor. He bent down and picked it up. Inscribed on the front, in cursive close to calligraphy, was 'Arnold' and the back of the envelope was sealed with only a small, gold foil sticker. He gently pealed the sticker off of the paper and slipped the card out of the envelope.

It was a valentine, hand made on white paper. The paper was lined and still carried the perforations of a notebook, but still transmitted an equal meaning of one that would've been bought in a store. The front was a picture of a giant heart that bared his name, 'Arnold', and was colored with shading that suggested an art student had to have worked on it. Phoebe must've put in a favor or something.

On the inside was a small poem: "_Oh, dearest one, with whom I love, / be sent to me from skies above. / I wish for the day we join in hands / I wish that you would understand. - Helga G. Pataki._"

Arnold stared at the paper a little while longer. "What is this girl's problem?" He held the paper in one hand and crinkled it violently. He then walked up the stairs and went up the path to his room, where he stood at a corner and three-pointed it to the wastebasket. "When is she gonna stop?"

***

"What did you expect, Helga?" Robert asked from his bed as Helga paced around his room. "'Oh, Helga, this changes everything. Come here, ya big lug.' Welcome to planet Earth, Helga. We've been waiting for you."

"Oh, shut up!" Helga had been watching from Arnold's window as he crinkled up the paper card from inside of his house. "Seriously, Rob! I'm just gonna give up all of this! It's pointless!"

Robert sighed and stood up next to her. "Helga, look: you're not going to get your way from pestering him into submission. You have to either accept the fact that he doesn't feel the same way that you do or pray for a miracle." Robert's phone started to ring. He gave a dark look to Helga. "Do not answer that phone."

Helga rushed to it. "That may be the community center about my community service."

Robert gripped her arm as she walked over to it. "It's probably Rhonda."

Helga stretched and grabbed the receiver of his phone off of the nightstand. "If it is, I'll just mess around with her." Robert released his grip and Helga pulled the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

The female voice on the other end responded back, "Hey, is Robert there?"

Helga nodded at Robert, which led to him sitting back on his bed and staying quiet. Helga spoke back into the phone, this time giving her voice a Swedish-sounding accent. "Well, who shall be calling at the time?"

The voice on the other end was confused. "Um, do I have the right number?"

"Do you want to 'verk' something out?"

"Huh?"

"I guess I shall pick you up at s'ven o'clock tonight."

Rhonda's voice now sounded concerning, as Helga quietly laughed with her mouth wide open and her hand over the phone's microphone. "Do I have the right number? I was calling to reach Robert…"

Before she could get out his last name, Helga talked in the phone again. This time, she was carrying some of her laughter with her as she spoke. "'Vut' are you wearing? Can you take it off?"

At this point, Helga had dropped the phone from laughing so hard. Even Robert started to giggle at Helga's phone games. Unfortunately, Rhonda realized what was going on too. "Helga! Can you just put me on the phone with Robert?"

The blonde-haired girl stopped her laughing and picked the phone back up again, only this time strict and serious. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Rhonda."

The voice on the other end now screamed loud enough to blow the speaker in the phone. "_Just put him on the phone!_"

Helga had backed the phone away from her ear and stuck it back when the screaming stopped. "You know, this is why I stopped sitting at your lunch table. You need some Prozac or something…"

"Helga, why are you playing this game with me?" Rhonda now sounded distressed. "Just let me talk to Robert!"

Helga mouthed over to Robert, _Come on, Bobby. Talk to her. _The boy sighed and stuck out his hand, waiting for the phone. Helga turned her attention back to the phone. "You haven't said it yet."

"Said what?"

"The magical words."

A deep and heavy breath was heard from the other side of the phone. "Helga… may I _please_ talk to Robert?"

Helga smiled at the receiver. "Was that so hard, Rhonda?" She pulled the phone away from here and stretched the cord over to Robert. "Your stalker awaits."

Robert grabbed the phone. "You're one to talk." He placed the phone up to his ear and began to talk with Rhonda. "Yeah? What? Oh… oh, just stop. Rhon-… Rhonda, you're taking this… Rhonda, I… No! No, I don't want to! Rhonda! That's not f… That was just once! Oh, B-… Bye, Rhonda. Good-_bye_, Rhonda! GOOD… ah, screw it." Robert held the phone out to Helga. "Can you hang this back up?"

"Is she still talking?"

Robert nodded. "Yeah, she's all upset."

Helga put the phone back up to her ear and interrupted in a very calm attitude whatever Rhonda was talking about. "Shut up." She slammed the phone back down on the base and sat next to Robert on his bed. "You know, I'm starting to really feel sorry for that girl. Why do you hate her so much."

"UGH!" Robert lay back on the side of his bed with his shins still dangling off of the edge. "I don't _hate_ her. I'm just getting annoyed by her pestering me all the time."

"So… why don't you just give her a chance? Who are you seeing right now?"

Robert kept silent and sat up. "Well, nobody at the moment. Julia broke up with me a long time ago."

Helga turned her head and cracked her neck. "Why don't you just give her one date and see where it goes from there? Maybe you'll change your mind." Robert lay on his back again but this time Helga joined right beside him. "You liked her back then, why don't you even give her a chance right now?"

Robert turned his head toward Helga. "What? Do you want me to just call her back?"

The phone started ringing again. Helga looked back and then at Robert. "Maybe you don't have to." She sat up and answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Helga, can I talk to Robert?"

She held the phone out to Robert. "Have at her."

Robert took it and than took a deep breathe. "Rhonda… what are you doing tonight?"

Helga watched as Robert listened to Rhonda on the phone, pulling it away from his ear from time to time. "What's going on?"

Robert put his finger up to his mouth. "Shh! Oh… Okay, Rhonda. _Okay, Rhonda. OKAY, RHONDA! _Rhonda! Do you want to go or not? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Really? Okay, around eight. Alright, Rhonda. _Alright, Rhonda. _Just…J-I'll meet you at eight. Good-bye." He leaned over on the bed and hung the phone up.

Helga smiled at Robert. "Was that too much to ask?"

"Helga, I have a feeling I'm going to regret this later on." Robert stood up. "If this ends up being the worse time of my life, you owe me."

"And if ends up being the best time of your life, you owe me a _huge_ apology." Helga thought about it. "And dinner. You'll owe me dinner."

Robert crossed his arms. "You eat dinner here anyway."

"I know, but you'll owe me dinner at some other place. A restaurant, if you will."

He rolled his eyes back and walked out of the room. "We'll see, Helga."

***

Arnold answered the ringing phone. "Hello?"

"Arnold?"

He shook from his place, sprawled across his bed, and sat up. "Ruth? Hey, Happy Valentine's Day."

The voice on the other end hesitated. "Yeah, you too, Arnold. Look, you came over here earlier and…"

Arnold cut her off unintentionally, "I was seeing if you wanted to do something tonight. You know, go out or something?"

Once again, the voice paused. "Arnold, I'm not gonna be able to do anything tonight."

The football-headed boy glared at his phone. "Well… why not?"

There was more hesitation from the phone. Arnold swore he could hear some kind of whispering on the line. The voice came back, "It's just… I have some stuff to do…"

"What? Family things?"

"Yeah…" More whispering on the other end again. "I have to go have dinner with my family. It's been almost a ritual every year."

"Oh…" Arnold slumped in his spot. "Okay, then. Do you want to do something tomorrow? Maybe Sunday?"

"Hold on." The voice on the phone went back and whispered yet again. _What is she doing?_ The voice came back. "Sunday afternoon would be good. Is that good with you?"

"Yeah, that's great with me." Arnold was almost bursting with joy, yet too confused with why Ruth was being so odd to him to even smile. "What time?"

This time she answered with no hesitation. "Twelve-thirty would be excellent for me."

"Twelve-thirty is great." Arnold relaxed onto his bed. The whole conversation had been making him really tense. "Is something wrong? You sound… odd."

"No, no, I'm fine," Ruth yawned. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay, bye." The other end hung-up before Arnold had a chance to. He took the digital phone and hit the Talk button to shut it off. He set in next to him and sat reflecting on his bed. "Huh."

***

"Man, that sucks." Gerald bent down to the bottom of the pop machine and grabbed a plastic Yahoo soda bottle. "Yet it sounds very suspicious. What are you doing tonight now?"

"I guess I'll just end up spending the night at home alone." Arnold and Gerald walked throughout the mall. "Well, what about the bath and body store?"

"Nah," Gerald disagreed. "Getting a girl bath lotion just shows that you don't have any other ideas for a present. If I show up at Phoebe's house with a bag of bath lotion and shampoo, she's gonna think I don't care about her. Or she might think I want her to take a bath or something, which is also the wrong message."

"I see where you're going with this." Arnold scanned the names of the shops they passed.

"I mean, maybe if I was able to jump in that bathtub with her…"

"I don't need to know!" Arnold searched through the names of the stores with more determination now, just to get Gerald off of the subject. "There's the book store."

"Yeah, but I don't know what she likes to read. I know she does read, but of what I have no clue. Now, back to the bathing thing..."

"Hey, look at that, Gerald!" Arnold pointed. "The Heart-Mark store! All they have is cards and stuff girls love. Anything in there will be suitable for a Valentine's Day present."

"Yeah, I guess." They started to walk into the store. "At least this has some meaning in it. No originality, but meaning in it."

"Come on, we'll get her a bear with some chocolates and she'll love you forever." Arnold went through the doors and straight to a display by the greeting cards. "Look at these bears right here. You pull 'em apart and they reconnect at the lips. Girls love this stuff."

"Arnold," Gerald explained. "Who do you think you're giving advice to? I am the only one in this vicinity authorized to give dating advice. I got diplomas and documents to prove it. You've had maybe three girlfriends in your life and you mean to tell me you know about getting the women to swoon. They should lock me up for stealin' hearts, that's what I do."

"Okay, Gerald." Arnold put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I believe you."

"You _better_ believe it!" Gerald shook his hand off. "Give me five minutes and a tin of mints and I bet you I'll get a girl's number."

"Well, if you don't think any of this stuff'll work, we can try another store."

Gerald circled around. "Nah, this place is perfect. You got lucky this time."

Arnold smirked. "So where are you taking her out tonight?"

Gerald walked down the card isle with Arnold, continuously talking. "You see, first I'm gonna take her to dinner. Not your restaurant, but the other one. Then, I'm gonna take her on a moonlight walk through the park. After that, I'll take her to my house and we gon' cuddle the night through. In the morning, I take her to breakfast and she goes home." Gerald pulled a card off of the shelf. "_Roses are Red, Violets are Blue. / If you hate this card, I'll buy you some shoes_. Buy you some shoes? Who writes this junk?"

"Who knows?"


	24. Chapter 23: Rober and Rhonda

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 23: Robert and Rhonda

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"I am all alone and it seems like all I do is wait.  
Yes, we spend hours on the phone but it's never the same.  
Nothing good ever does come easy.  
Nothing good ever comes without a fight.  
I am all alone and I wish I was home with you tonight."  
Everclear - The Good Witch of the North

Robert sat by himself on a bench in front of the Waffles and Halibut fast food restaurant freezing from the cold weather. His jacket and hat offered little comfort to him as the February winds gusted at him. At seven thirty, Robert called Rhonda to change the location of where they were meeting. Originally, Robert was going to meet Rhonda at her house. Of course he wasn't taking Rhonda to the waffle and fish restaurant; he just didn't want to make a big impression on her. Rhonda was an alright person from time to time, but sometimes you just want them to keep their distance. He wasn't trying to ignore her nor ward her off, but he sure wasn't trying to lure her closer.

He glanced at his watch. 7:59 PM. No need to be panicked. Rhonda had never been one to follow routine or a schedule. Rhonda came and went when she wanted to. Plus, it was still only a minute from eight. You can't expect her to be punctual to the last second. The cars passed back and forth on the road, creating blurs of light and reflection as the zoomed by him. It was nights like these he would've been out here anyway. Well, maybe not in front of a waffle house, but definitely out here watching the street. Nothing in life comes for free, so why not watch somebody else burn gas money in front of you?

A pair of lights started to flash from Robert's left. He turned and squinted to try and make out who was coming. The car didn't seem familiar, but the lights kept flashing on and off. It was still down at the end of the street, but it was visible. The car finally pulled up next to the sidewalk, revealing it to be a stretch limousine. _Let me guess who's gonna pop out of the door…_

Instead of meeting to Robert's expectations, the sunroof in the back opened up and a bundled up Rhonda Lloyd appeared. "Robert, get in!"

He lifted his head up from staring at the limousine's wheels and at Rhonda. His face conjured up a false smile of happiness. "Okay."

The chauffeur quickly ran from the driver side door and around to where Robert was standing. The man was definitely old, maybe around fifty-one, but still very able and willing. He opened the door in front of Robert and laid his hand out towards the inside of the car. "Step in, sir."

Robert looked at the old man. "You know, you didn't have to do that. I could've done it myself."

The man did not move from his stance. "It is what I'm paid to do, sir."

"Well, thanks, I guess." Robert put one foot inside the car. "Next time, I'm opening the door."

"Anything you say, sir."

Robert sat in the back seat next to Rhonda and the chauffeur closed the door after him. Robert turned to Rhonda who was smiling lovingly at him. She turned away and towards a small fridge in the back of the limo. "Would you like something to drink?"

The chauffeur had finally rounded the front of the car and stepped into the driver's seat yet again. It was very hot inside the car, and it was making Robert uncomfortable. He took off his jacket and hat and placed them on the floor in front of him. "No, I'll be fine. What's with this?"

Rhonda looked at the jacket on the floor. "Good call." She unzipped her jacket, undid her scarf, took off her gloves and removed her hat to place them on the floor next to his. "It is nice and warm in here. I had Romero let the car heat up for a half-hour before we left the house. I can't stand the cold. I only put my jacket and what else on because I was going to be opening the sunroof and greeting you."

It was then that Robert actually looked at Rhonda since he stepped in. Her color code with her outfit matched the same way it had in elementary school: red shirt and black pants. The shirt was long sleeved almost skin tight and had a small tie around the top of her chest. The pants were almost khakis in a way… but slimmer and black. There wasn't really a way to describe it, but suddenly Robert was starting to think about Rhonda in another light. It could just be looks, it might be personality, but something was there that he couldn't point a finger at.

Robert reinstated his question that was never answered, "What's with the limousine and everything?"

Rhonda moved in closer to that her face was almost two inches away from his. "Well, I wanted to make tonight special. Something you'll remember."

Robert was leaned up from his seat to the door he entered from. He put his hand on Rhonda's shoulder and slowly pushed her away as he spoke. "I thought _I_ was taking _you_ out tonight."

Rhonda turned away and sighed. She looked back at him. "Robert, honestly, how much money do you have on you right now?"

"About sixty-five dollars."

Rhonda once again closed in closer to Robert. "_That's_ why _I'm_ taking _you_ out tonight."

"Is it always about money, Rhonda?"

The girl pulled away again, backing off to her side of the seat. "What's with you, Robert? God! I mean, here I am willing to pay for this whole evening and all you have to whine about is why you aren't paying for it!" She crossed her legs and stuck her nose in the air. "You are so rude. You're probably just doing this as some sort of plea bargain to getting me to stop calling you."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Robert grabbed Rhonda by the shoulders and spun her to face him. "I agreed to come here with you tonight after all the junk you've put me through! You need to realize that I didn't have to go out here tonight!" Robert let go of her and calmed himself down. "I just thought… you know… usually the _guy_ pays for everything. I didn't want to become a freeloader on you because you'd probably look at me as a problem again."

Rhonda uncrossed her legs and stared at the floor below her feet. "Look, I'm just kind of… nervous, alright? I know that every time we get together, I break us apart. I'm just scared, I guess, of driving you away again."

Robert put an arm on her shoulder. "It's alright, Rhonda."

She continued on, "I know I've never been fair to you and I'm just trying to make up for that now. Let me pay for tonight, I can afford it."

She looked up at Robert, causing him to reflectively grin. "Okay. Tonight, it's on you. Next time, I get to."

"Next time?" Rhonda gave a confused look at Robert and quickly straightened her back out in the seat. "I thought tonight was it?"

Robert straightened himself out as well and thought about it. "We'll see how tonight goes. You never know."

Just hearing those words exited Rhonda and made her shake about in her seat, and just watching her made Robert start to worry about what he really had gotten himself into. Rhonda rolled down the partition from the back to the driver. "Romero!"

"Yes, Miss Lloyd?"

"I want you to take us to the Black Diamond restaurant, okay?"

The driver saluted. "Yes, Miss Lloyd."

The partition rolled back up and Rhonda looked over to her date. "Have you ever been there?"

"Um… no. Not that I can think of."

"Oh, Robbie, you're gonna love this!" She clenched her wrists together, trying the hold back the joy inside of her. She 'stood' up (You can't really stand in one of these things) and carefully walked across to the other side. "You're gonna need something though."

Robert reached out as if he could grab her and tug her back to her seat. "What?"

Rhonda reached behind the seat across from Robert and pulled out a black dress jacket. "You're only wearing a tee-shirt. You'll at least need this on. They have to let you in if you're with me, but they'll respect you more if you put this on."

She threw the jacket and Robert caught it in his hands. "Whose is this? What about a tie?"

"That's my father's, and this place doesn't care if you have a tie or not." Rhonda went back and sat back down. "So, how have you been Robert?"

Robert slipped on the jacket, finding it fit him rather nicely. "Just call me Rob. I've been okay."

Rhonda just gazed at her friend. "Rob…"

This was all creepy to Robert. It wasn't the limo or Rhonda's attitude; it was how she kept looking at him lovingly. She'd freeze with her eyes half-shut and a smile on her face for almost a minute before she'd snap out of it. It was like dealing with a zombie whenever he talked to her. In some cases, this would be an improvement. This was not one of those cases. This was just plain eerie.

Robert leaned towards his door again. "Rhonda, this may or may not be an odd question, but do you have a cell phone on you that I can use?"

Rhonda reached under the seat and quickly went back in his face. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Robert started dialing his own phone number but turn to Rhonda before he hit send. "Um, can you just back off a little bit? You're kind of cramping me."

"Oh, sure thing, Rob." Rhonda hopped in her seat and moved out of Robert's way.

He hit send on the phone, placed it to his ear and turned his head to the door in an attempt to shield his conversation.

***

Helga had been watching a movie in Robert's room when the phone rang. There was no TV in her room and Robert's parents were watching some documentary on the Discovery channel. She picked up the phone and impersonated an answering machine. "You have reached the home of…"

Robert interrupted her before she was finished in a quiet and raspy whisper. "Helga, I'm gonna get you for this!"

Helga grinned from ear to ear. "What? Are you having a bad time with the ice princess?"

"I am _so_ going to get you when I come back!"

"What are you going to get me?" she questioned sarcastically. "Is it that pony? I've always wanted a pony…"

"How could you have talked me into this?"

Helga yawned and hit 'Display' on the TV remote. "Rob, it's only eight-ten. Has she seriously pissed you off already? Let the date ride through and maybe it'll all end up good in the end. Okay?"

The voice on the other end seemed still upset and as angry as ever. "Good-bye, Helga."

She waved at the receiver as if Robert could see it. "Bye-bye, Bobbo."

***

Robert turned back to Rhonda and handed her phone back. He tried covering up his real emotions as best as he could. "So… how long until we get there?"

"You know, Robert, I may be shallow and self-centered but I'm not stupid." She placed one hand at her waist. "Like I couldn't hear anything you just said. What, did Helga talk you into this?"

The false happiness from his face depleted as he tried to explain. "It's not like that."

"You know, I thought we were on to such a good start. We had our little fight but we overcame it, yet you still whine like I was talking you to see the dentist. Now, come on!" Rhonda stomped her foot to give her words more meaning. "Do you wanna go home? We can turn this think around and I can drop you back off…"

"No," responded Robert. "No, I really do want to spend this evening with you. It's the whole thing about what you've done to me in the past…"

"Hey." Now Rhonda was putting an arm on his shoulder. "I've got three words for you…"

__

Uh-oh.

"…Screw the past."

__

Oh, okay.

"Whatever's been done has been done I can't change it. I can only hope that you'll trust me this time around."

Robert nudged her hand off of his shoulder. "I'm sorry, but you need to stop touching me like that. I don't like it when people just… touch me. I need to be ready for it."

Rhonda held her hands out in front of her. "Okay, I won't touch you. Do you promise you'll at least stick this night out with me and _then _jump to conclusions?"

Robert nodded. "I promise."

"See, no. You said that too quickly, which is saying that you're just trying to end the argument. Do you _promise_ that you'll stick the night out with me before you make any assumptions?"

Robert paused for a few seconds, looking at the sorrow in Rhonda's eyes. "Yes, Rhonda. I promise I will."

"Can I hug you?"

Robert shrugged. "Okay, it's not really _that_ I mind, it's when you…"

Before Robert could finish, Rhonda had muffled his mouth with her shoulder pressing against his bottom jaw. She loosened her grip and sat normally in her seat when she was done. "Okay, I'm done. Thanks."

Robert puffed out his shirt with his hands. "Your welcome."


	25. Chapter 24: Kick In The Head

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

****

CHAPTER 24: Kick in the Head

________

__

"…Still she treats me like a human,  
She says she'll still be there.  
I may not be a hero, but I'll be there  
'Cause I know she cares."  
Styx - She Cares

Robert woke up on Rhonda's couch. He lightly padded the tip of his hair, sticking from each way off of his head, and tried patting them down straight. He sat up on the couch and looked around. His head was throbbing. "Aw, man. What _happened_ last night?"

Out of sheer predictability, Rhonda appeared from the corner of Robert's eye, from a small opening leading from the living room to the staircase. "Hey, you're awake, Robbie. How are ya?" She rushed to him wearing a dark red robe with a glass of orange juice in her hand. "Are you alright?"

Robert gripped at his head. "What happened? I can't remember anything after… what did we do when we got to the restaurant?"

Rhonda sat next to him and gripped the orange juice glass with both hands in front of her. "Well, I know what you're probably thinking and all I can tell you is, 'No.'"

"What?" Robert grabbed at his head. "Aw, I have a headache."

"That's what I'm talking about. You didn't get drunk and nothing happened to you afterwards that might have violated your personal… person." Rhonda sighed and shook her head. "Do you want some aspirin?"

"No, I don't touch that stuff." Robert gripped at his temples, still aching from the pain. "Maybe some ibuprofen, and what happened last night?"

Rhonda pointed to Robert and than to her bathroom. "Do you want me to tell you first or get the medicine first?"

"Just tell me first. I think I want to know before I medicate myself."

Rhonda took a deep breathe and began, "Last night, we went out to dinner for Valentine's Day."

Robert nodded with his hands still on his head. "Yeah, I remember that."

"I had the lobster, you had them make you a cheeseburger or something. I had the violin player right next to our table. After we ate, I had Romero drive us back to my house. When we arrived here, you fell out of the car and onto the sidewalk."

Robert gripped his head in a sudden bolt of pain. "Ugh! Did you take me to a doctor?"

"No," Rhonda explained. "See, at the point, the sidewalks hadn't been salted. You were still conscious and said that you'd be fine."

"Then what happened?" Robert massaged the side of his head. "If I was fine, why does it feel like a bowling ball hit me?"

"Well, on the way up my stoop, you slipped again. This time, you fell all the way down the steps and flew back to where your head hit the actual street instead of the sidewalk."

Robert thought about it for a minute. "That would make sense."

Rhonda took a sip from her orange juice glass and then placed it on the coffee table. "That's not the end of it."

"It's not?"

"At that point, you were in a lot of pain and wanted to just lay down. I was originally just going to take you here for a few seconds and then ship you off home. When this happened, I called your house and explained to you parents how you were going to spend the night."

Robert turned his head over to Rhonda. "What did they say?"

"They just wanted to know if you were going to be alright. It didn't look like you could go into a concussion and you weren't bleeding so I said it was alright."

As she talked, Robert could only focus on the glass upon the table. "Can I get some orange juice?"

"Yeah, sure." Rhonda picked up her glass and handed it to him.

He stared at the glass and cringed. "Um, can I get my _own_ glass? If its not too much trouble."

"Oh, okay." Rhonda cocked her head up the stairs. "Romero! Can you please bring me another glass of orange juice?"

The man in the suit came out of one of the bedrooms and moved down the stairs. "Right away, Miss Lloyd."

Rhonda turned her head back to Robert. "Well, anyway, about last night. You were having a tiny bit of trouble going up the stairs to the guest bedroom so I helped you up there. When I got to the top, I had to unlock the door since we never use it and don't want anybody wandering into it. We're private people like that."

Robert nodded. "Okay."

"Anyway, while I was pulling out the key, I propped you up against the stairway. As soon as I turned to help you in bed, you lost your grip of the rail and fell backwards down my staircase."

Robert gritted his teeth together thinking about the experience. "Oh, man."

"You're lucky to be alive, actually." Romero turned the corner into the living room holding a tray with a single glass of orange juice on it. "Oh, Robert, your drink."

Robert picked the juice up off of the tray and smiled. "Thanks, man."

The man smiled back at him. "You're very welcome, sir." His smile instantly faded as he walked away.

Robert turned back to Rhonda. "You were saying?"

Rhonda shrugged. "It was then we had a doctor take a look at you. We called up our personal doctor, Dr. Harding, and he made a house call. We had him look at you and he said you'd be alright. Maybe a slight headache in the morning, but no damage that we should be worried about." She picked up her glass again and took another sip. Robert soon followed her. "So instead of trying to take you upstairs again, we made the couch up for you."

Robert put his hand that was against his head down at his knee. "He said I'd have a 'slight' headache?"

"Do you want that Advil?"

Robert nodded as he took another sip of orange juice. When he was done, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Yeah, if you could. It'd mean a lot."

Rhonda stood up from the couch, placing her glass back on the coffee table in the process. "Okay, wait here."

Robert rocked back in forth on the couch. _'Wait here.' Like I actually have the option of going anywhere else._ He started thinking about the night over again: what he could remember and what he had been told. Then an almost important question arose: _Was this a successful date or a terrible date? Rhonda says I enjoyed the night, but then again my skull is probably shattered from all the times I hit my head…_

Rhonda came back from the bathroom with a large, white bottle in her hand. "Every time I have company over, somebody gets a headache."

Robert let out a very short and low laugh. Rhonda took her seat beside him once more. He shifted in his seat trying to make himself more comfortable. "I'm sorry I can't remember anything from last night. You probably spent a lot of money on me."

"Pssh!" Rhonda waved a hand at Robert. "Money is no object. Money I have. If you want, we could try again tonight. What do you say?"

Robert winced at the thought of another date with Rhonda but shortly eased up on his eyes. He shook his hand out in the air stiffly. "Maybe tomorrow. Let me think about it."

Rhonda sighed and threw herself against the back of the couch. She replied back as if somebody had nagged her into accepting his answer. She replied back like she was Eyore from Winnie the Pooh. "Okay, Rob. I understand."

Robert glared at her offended. "Rhonda, I didn't mean it like that…"

"Sure you didn't, Rob." She closed her hands together across her chest. "Sure you didn't."

"Look, this isn't the best time to ask me. I mean, if you were to ask me maybe three hours later, I might have a more complete answer. Right now I can't really think."

Rhonda undid her hands and moved herself forward on the couch. "Well… then why don't you just spend the day with me? I'll stop calling you."

__

Great, she's using means of extortion. "My parents have to be worried to death about me. I at least have to check in with them."

"That's okay." Rhonda sat upright. "Just spend the day with me, Robert, I'm not _that_ bad of a person."

__

Now what other options do you have in a situation like this? One side of your brain is saying telling her off would be rude and also not sure enough to be the answer. The other side is saying take it but live with the feeling that somehow it'll all end up in tragedy. All together, the brain is confused. What should I do? The thoughts rolled back and forth in his head. He finally thought of an answer. "Yeah, I'll stay with you today. We need to stop by my house though."

Rhonda clapped in excitement and hugged him. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you…" She let go of him and backed off for a moment. "I forgot, is it okay to hug you?"

Robert looked at her like a dog anticipating a kick for being bad. "Um, it's okay."

"Thank you, Rob!" She quickly hugged him again. As she tightened her grip, Robert groaned from the pressure she was placing on his chest. _My God, what have I gotten myself into?_

***

A lady with glasses and dark, black hair knocked on her son's bedroom door. In a low and almost inaudible voice, she let out, "Um, Brandon, you have a phone call."

The voice from the other side of the door yawned and replied back groggily. "Uh… who is it?" The voice then continued to breathe heavily from his nose.

The mother put the cordless phone up to her ear. "May I ask who's calling?" There was a short pause but the phone was soon placed back at her side. "She says you know who it is."

The bedroom door opened partly due to a chain lock, and Brainy's head peeped through the opening. "Uh… tell her I'm sick."

"You're sick, Brandy?"

"Um… yeah, very sick." He wheezing shortly turned to coughing for a brief moment. "See, I'm very sick."

The mother picked up the phone. "Um… yeah, he's really sick." Once again the mother paused, breathing heavily like her son. "Uh-huh. Okay. Bye." She hit the button and turned the phone off. "She says she hopes you get better."

Brainy smiled. "Okay." The door closed and a door lock was heard shifting into place. A stereo clicked on as his mom walked away.

***

Helga took her twenty-ounce over to the U-Scan cash register. Being a resident of Robert's house with no job, his parents had let her take their bottle returns back to the nearby Friendly Frank grocery store. Sure, it'd be cheaper to buy one over at the local party store and easier to walk with the bottles too, but she like the walk. It was something to pass her time with. Phoebe had been busy with Gerald for the past few days and Robert had been busy with Rhonda. Arnold was out of the question, and everybody else sucked. It was only three dollars worth of cans, but all that meant that there'd be an extra dollar or two to pocket afterwards.

She touched the button for the English instructions. _Sorry, my Spanish is kind of rusty these days. _The monitor popped up a box with more instructions. Helga read them aloud to herself, "'Please scan the first item and place it in the bag.' The first item? The _only_ item."

She took the Yahoo and ran it across the black laser platform. She held it in her hand and placed it on a tray to the left of her. _Man, this is pathetic. Taking back bott… what the hell?_ A giant exclamation point popped up on the screen. She once again read the text, "'Please place the item in the bag.'" She stared confused at the monitor. "What if I don't want a bag?"

She moved the bottle onto the white platform to her right. The machine finally asked her to pay. "Bottle slips? Yes."

An employee in a green shirt immediately walked up to her machine. "Yeah, I'm gonna need those… thingers…"

Helga held up the slip and looked at the teen in front of her. "You mean, my bottle return things?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"Well, why can't I just scan these across the thing? Or why can't there be a little acceptor thing where I can slip it in like the dollar… the dollar thing." She placed her hands at her sides. "I mean, if I'm actually going to have to deal with a cashier, what's the point of this whole U-Scan?"

The boy shrugged. "Can I just please have the bottle returns?"

She slipped her fingers around the small piece of paper, but eventually ended up handing it to him. "Okay, but you need to talk to the manager about this. He needs to tell somebody."

"I don't think he's gonna care, ma'am."

Helga scowled at the employee. "Can you just pay for my pop?"

"Right." The boy turned around and walked to his station. Helga folded her arms and tapped her foot in place. _That kid is so lucky I don't work here. I'd be kicking his sorry ass everyday for the rest of his life. I'd be holding him upside down and mopping the floor with his head. I'd be…_

"Hey, can I have an application?"

The boy looked up from his station. "I'll have your change in a minute."

"No, you misunderstood me. I said, 'can I have an application?' Can I?"

A cash register opened from his waist and was shut close again. He walked over to her with a dollar seventy-five for her. "Here's your change."

Helga unfolded her arms and flailed them about as she talked to the boy. "Are you deaf or what? I asked for an application! Can I get one? May you be so kind as to bestow one upon me?!"

The boy stood stunned for a moment, but snapped back to reality and walked over to his station. After rummaging through a few drawers, he pulled out a beige paper form and held out in Helga's direction. "Here you go."

"What, do you expect me to walk over there?"

The teen rolled his eyes back in his head and glared back at Helga. "Yes. Yes, I do."

She stomped loudly and dramatically over to the station and snatched the form from his hand swiftly. Helga narrowed her brow and snarled at him, "You, my friend, are now in some _very_ deep shit."

With that, she walked away. _Well, if I don't get a job today, at least the kid'll have an interesting story to tell his friends. I can hear him now; "This chick came in and she was just… man, was she just _snotty_!"_

It's indescribable how much pride Helga takes into her self, even when she knows she's wrong. Sometimes, it's hard for even her to believe.

***

"Brandon, that girl's calling again."

The stereo in Brainy's room shut off, a series of clicking sounded, and the door opened up partially due to the still fixed chain lock. "Uh… what does she want?"

"She knows you're sick, but wants to know if she can bring you some chicken soup." The mother shrugged. "I don't have a problem with it."

Brainy's eyes wandered to objects inside his room hidden by the door. "Um… uh… tell her I have food poisoning."

"Food poisoning?"

"Yeah." The boy stood breathing through his nose excessively. "I'm heaving everything I eat."

"Okay, sweetie. Um… do you need anything?" The mom gave a sympathetic look to her only child. "Do you want some water?"

"Mom, I'm not really sick. I'm…"

"Hold on." His mom placed the phone back up to her ear. "Actually, he's not sick."

Brainy slammed his door and the locks were clicked back into place. A scream was heard from inside, "MOM!"

She put the phone down at her waist and placed her face against her son's door. "Oh, Brandy, what's wrong?"


	26. Chapter 25: Plastic

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 25: Plastic

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"She is frequently kind and she's suddenly cruel.  
She can do as she pleases, she's nobody's fool  
But she can't be convicted; she's earned her degree,  
And the most she will do is throw shadows at you  
But she's always a woman to me."  


Billy Joel - She's Always A Woman

"So, how'd your family dinner go?"

Ruth paused in her tracks. It was Arnold's idea to take a walk through the park in February. The jackets and gloves helped, but both of their faces were freezing from the cold. Arnold stopped to wait for Ruth, but she quickly started walking again and strode next to him. "It was good. My mother, she's… she's out there."

Arnold kicked a small pebble amongst the light slush on the path. "Can't be as bad as my Grandma is."

"Well, how's you Grandpa."

"She's pretty crazy." Arnold stared at his own feet, afraid to look at Ruth. Eye contact with some people always made him feel like staring for some reason, and staring always felt like he was a stalker. "She's not so much as she was a few years ago, but she's still out off the deep end."

"Yeah…" Ruth's voice trailed off as she watched the fog escape from her mouth. "Arnold…"

He immediately shifted his head from his shoes to Ruth's face. "Yeah?"

Ruth bit down on her lip. "This isn't going to work out."

The excitement in Arnold's face faded and he moved his head back at his high-tops. He exhaled a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I had a feeling about that."

"Yeah…" Ruth smiled down at the football-headed teen, but moved her lips downward when she realized he wasn't looking. "Look, it's that…"

"You know someone else." Arnold bitterly stared at Ruth's face. "You're seeing him, right? I'm just some little side project? Just because you're in college means you can just throw around people who you don't run into on a daily basis?"

"Arnold, it's not…"

"Well, I'll be damned if it isn't!" Arnold's tone was now excessively harsh. So much, to the point, that now Ruth was looking at her shoes instead of Arnold. "Who was the guy who answered the door on Friday?"

She answered, yet she never took her eyes off of the slush; "That was him."

"You left me for _that_ guy?" Arnold snapped his head away from her. "God, Ruth!"

As Arnold kept walking, Ruth stopped in protest. "Hey!" she yelled, grabbing Arnold's attention and causing him to spin around. "I did like you when I first met you, Arnold! When we talked to each other at the restaurant, I thought you were probably the most charming person I'd met in a while!"

"Oh, that's such a sad story." Arnold scornfully mocked the girl he had been walking with. "Because you're fickle means what? I should feel sympathy for you being with someone else?"

"I started thinking about it and… how am I ever going to get serious with you? You're still in high school! You're a waiter! Your family has tied your arms behind your back from leaving your house!"

Arnold squeezed his fists together. "Oh, so I'm scum because of my job? I'm scum because I care about my family?" Arnold moved towards her and shoved her on the shoulders. "Because _I'm_ not some junkie asshole who happens to go to the same college as you? Cry me a freakin' ocean if you want!"

"You're not what I'm looking for, Arnold." Ruth crossed her arms. "It's as simple as that."

"Yeah, I'm not the one you're looking for." Arnold stormed away from her. "You're gonna need someone who drives a cab."

With that, Arnold left. Ruth stood alone in the park, left with nothing but the scowls of those passing by. Most of them kept their comments to themselves; some mumbled under their breath nasty comments. Another teen couple walked by with a nasty frown on their face, as the boy reached down and threw a slush-ball in her face. Ruth slowly slipped the runny snow and ice off of her face and ran off screaming in the opposite direction of Arnold.

***

"So, Helga," started Robert's father. "How have you been?"

Ever since Friday, Robert had hardly been home. He did stop buy on Saturday to say hello to his parents and tell them he wasn't kidnapped, but after that he spent the night over at Rhonda's. He fell asleep on their couch; this time had nothing to do with him hurting his head. The swelling had gone down, but his scalp was still very tender if somebody touched it. Now, Helga was stuck between in the awkwardness of Robert's parents. "Um, I've been great. I have a job interview on Tuesday."

Robert's mother smiled a little too wide. "Well, that's wonderful. How's Robert doing?"

Helga shrugged in her chair as she took another bite of dinner. "He's doing good, I suppose," she said with her mouth somewhat full.

Robert's father pointed a fork in Helga's direction. "He's not, you know… doing… _drugs_, is he?"

Helga's face was very white and confused, but her mind was cracking up. _Yeah, that'd be the day._ "No, I'm absolutely sure of it."

The father shook his head. "Good. I should've known better."

His mother leaned in on the table in Helga's direction. "We just want to know from one of his friends. We thought you'd have a better view of his life since you seem to talk to him so much, being that you live in the room right next to him."

Helga's hair shifted as her forehead flattened and her ears lowered. "You two are involved in almost everything he does. How could you not be sure of how he lives?"

The father stuttered out, "W-W-Well, we are involved with his life deeply, but we just wanted to know. Just in case he's not telling us something."

"Isn't that a little… shady?"

Both parents froze with their forks sticking up off their plates in their hands. The mother decided to break the ice by letting out a small laugh. "Well, we can't go and change the past now, can we? Let's just all quit talking about it. Robert's okay."

The father nodded his head. "Yes, let's just eat in peace."

They all went back to their plates and started eating whatever dinner was again. It was some kind of noodle dish; that's all Helga could make out. It wasn't terrible though. _Rob, you owe me for this one, bucko._ She took another bite of the noodle concoction. _You owe me big-time._

His father placed his fork at the side of his plate. "Is Robert part of a cult?"

Helga held her head down from her plate and moved her eyes up to meet him. "No. He is _not_ part of a cult."

The man raised his hands in the air. "Just checking."

Helga dropped her fork down by her plate. "Um, I'm not that hungry anymore."

Her plate was still half full. Robert's mother gave that same warm smile she had been accustomed to already. "Well, scrape the rest of that in a container and put it in the fridge."

***

"Arnold, you sound irritated. Is this a bad time?"

The football-headed boy collapsed on his bed face down. Through a pillow, he mumbled back to the phone, "This is a very bad time, Gerald. A very bad time."

"Well, what's wrong? Why aren't you with Ruth tonight."

He tried as hard as he could, but Arnold's eyelids could not close any tighter. He rolled himself on his back and put the phone close to his mouth. "It's over, Gerald."

The phone was silent for a while. Only the sound of their breathing kept any silence away. After twelve of the longest seconds in the world, Gerald finally answered back to his long-time friend, "I'm sorry, Arnold."

"No, you're not." Arnold sighed heavily, hoping maybe he'd exhale any breath left in his body and somehow collapse his lungs. "You told me in the beginning that I shouldn't go out with her. You said… I can't remember, but it was just flat-out 'no'."

"No, you have it messed up." Arnold scooted his body inside of his bed to get comfortable, if possible, as he listened to his friend explain. "I told you that you probably don't really like her anymore; that's it's more just a payback to yourself. Who broke up with who?"

"She broke up with me. She cheated on me for some slob with a beer gut."

"Then I guess I was wrong. In the end, it was her problem and not yours. It isn't your fault, Arnold. It's her's." Another long pause happened between the two. "Maybe you two weren't meant to go out in the first place."

"Oh, GOD, Gerald!" Arnold sat up, grabbed the alarm clock off of his shelf and threw it across the room, shattering the glass of the face about the room. "I'm sick of this, Gerald! I'm so sick and it's just incredibly stupid that every time I tell you, you always say, 'You weren't meant to'. I'm not 'meant' to do anything, Gerald!" Arnold gripped at his forehead and squeezed whatever was in-between his fingers. If only it was loose enough, he'd be able to rip it off. "I've had it, Gerald! Right now, I feel terrible, and the last thing I need to hear is that somehow, no matter what, I've been destined to feel terrible!"

The voice on the other end spoke very easily, like a cop talking down a jumper. "Okay, calm down, Arnold. That's not what I really meant this time. What I meant was…"

"I don't care what you meant, Gerald, I want to stop talking about this!" He collapsed once more back on his bed, letting a few tears escape the corners of his eyes. "I just want to stop."

"Okay, Arnold." Gerald tried his best to calm him down. "Okay, Arnold. Are you gonna be alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Do you need me to come over? Maybe bring over a few friends? Do you wanna skip school tomorrow?"

Arnold stared up at the roof of his ceiling. "No, I don't think I should."

"Well, I could skip school. I'm sure you have some kind of good reason to 'stay home'. Are you sure you don't need me over there?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna be alright." Arnold sighed. "Thanks for calling, Gerald."

"You don't have to thank me, I was…" Before he could say '-going to do it anyway', the voice thought before he spoke. "It's okay, Arnold, as long as you're okay."

"Well, I'm fine."

"What was that crashing sound earlier?"

"A clock."

"Another one?"

"Yeah-huh."

A low chuckle was heard over the phone. "When are you ever going to run out of those things, man?"

Arnold shrugged, starting to smile himself. "I don't know…"

"Make sure you put a new one up, Arnold, before you go to bed tonight. You need to wake up tomorrow."

"Yeah, I will. I gotta go, Gerald."

"Okay." Their voices were silenced, trying to find some way to end the phone call. "So, um… see ya, Arnold."

"See ya, Gerald." Arnold clicked the cordless phone off, and sprawled his arms out on the bed.

***

Helga rested on her back upon the bed she currently occupied at Robert's house. This wasn't her home, and she wasn't about to call it her home. Yet, for some reason she was starting to worry about where Robert was as if he was family. He hadn't returned yet. The clock had just struck ten-thirty, and he still was out with Rhonda. _What is taking him? It's a school night._

Like magic, the sound of the door in the living room swinging open traveled to Helga's ears. A low laughing and talking emerged, and after a minute or two the door shut itself. Footsteps in the hall carried, and then a knock came on Helga's door. "You awake?" the voice whispered.

"Come on in, Robber." _Heh… I like that one._

The door gently cracked opened and the boy pushed his head through the space created. "Hi, Helga."

"Hey, Bobbo, how was your weekend get-away with the princess?"

He sighed and hung his head down at the floor. "It was okay, I guess. I had fun."

"Well, you know what that means." Helga turned her head from the ceiling to Robert. "So where are you taking me and when?"

"I owe you an apology."

Helga glared confusingly. "For what?"

"Helga…"

"No really, I'm not being sarcastic." She sat up in the bed and pulled away her blanket, revealing she was still fully dressed. "You went out and had yourself a good time, why do you owe anything to me? You should be happy? Smile, damn it!"

Robert laughed. "Yeah, but then again you were stuck here with my parents."

She looked around the room for a minute as she thought. "Good point. Okay, apology accepted."

"Yeah." Robert smiled and sighed.

Helga tapped her fingers on the soft bed. "So… you two going out again?"

"I think so." The boy moved his left foot in one place back and forth on the carpet. "I'll have to see at school tomorrow."

"Well, let's just cross our fingers and hope for the best then." She smiled at her friend. "Are you happy?"

"I think I am."

"Good, then. I'm really tired, Rob, and I need to get some rest." She turned her back. "Can you turn the light off on your way out please?"

"Oh, yeah, sure." Robert backed off to the light switch and flipped it off. "Good-night, Helga."

"Good-night, Rob."


	27. Chapter 26: March

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 26: March

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"Make me feel special, I know that you can.  
Make me feel special like a prominent man,  
Prominent, dominant, McCoy and I'm real.  
Another brotha's fan? Forget how you feel!"  
A Tribe Called Quest - Against The World

"So, you comin' to the talent show?"

Arnold picked his head up from the breakfast table. "Are you going to be there? Are they finally going to go through with it?"

"It's been a rough year, but the drama teacher finally found the spot for it."

"Didn't you audition for that back in December or something?" Arnold yawned.

Gerald shook his head. "Nah, back in January. The auditorium has had all these problems with the sprinkler system or some junk like that. The fire department finally gave it the okay."

Arnold shook the tired out of his eyes and rubbed his hand across his mouth. "Maybe. When is it?"

"Since it's only a talent show and nobody outside of the school really wants to see it, it's gonna be on Friday." Gerald finally took a seat next to Arnold after having stood by his shoulder for a while. "The whole thing will get you excused from fifth and sixth hour and tickets are five bucks. You in?"

The football-headed boy slowly tapped his fingers on the table. "Well, it's only Monday. You couldn't have told me about this earlier on Friday when I had money?"

"Arnold, you're not still moping about Ruth, are you?"

Arnold ran his hands across his eyes and down his face. "No, not at all."

"Well, then what's wrong, buddy?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired."

Gerald patted on Arnold's back with his hand. "Come on, man, I can tell when something's wrong, now what's wrong?"

Arnold let out a long and heavy breath of air. "Yeah, I'm still moping about Ruth."

"Man!" Gerald backed off and turned his head away from Arnold. He swished back and slapped his hands flat on the table. "That was, what? Two months ago?"

"A little bit more. It's just…" Arnold trailed off. "It's just that… it seemed like everything was going good. Why do all of my relationships end like this? It's always jacked up like this."

"Hey, man, things'll work out," Gerald tried comforting. "And if they don't, there's always Helga. She won't put up any resistance."

Arnold gawked at his friend sarcastically. "Ha-ha, Gerald. Very, _very_ funny."

Gerald did his best to switch the subject of Helga as fast as he could. "Did you…" Gerald held his fingers on his left hand out straight and circled his hand to motion "and so on." "Did you with Ruth?"

"No, Gerald," replied Arnold sternly. "I didn't have sex with Ruth McDougal."

"Do you mean that as in "you didn't", or do you mean that as in the way Bill Clinton "didn't" with Monica Lewinsky?"

Arnold chuckled and held a fist out while he talked. "I did not have sexual relations with that woman."

Gerald started laughing but stopped quickly. "Nah, that joke's too old. Sis you even kiss her at all?"

Arnold thought about it for a minute. "She did kiss me."

"Was it a big, passionate, fireworks-in-the-background kiss or a dull, lame, no tongue kiss?"

Arnold sunk down at the table again. "The second one."

"Arnold," Gerald started. "We need to get you a woman."

"No, I don't think you can just do things like that." Arnold lifted himself from his sunken position. "When you meet someone, it has to mean something. You can't just get together for the sake of getting together."

"Well, yeah, but what if you end up liking the girl?"

"I just think you can't go off of what someone has tried setting you up with," explained Arnold. "Once you start the relationship, you try to get along with her for the sake of not casting a bad impression. This'll continue throughout the rest of the relationship until one of you realizes that you don't actually like each other, but have been trying to get along ever since you met. It never works."

Gerald sat speechless, thinking of what his friend had just said. He finally thought of a reply; "Yeah, that's pretty true. I can't think of one girl I was set up with who I've actually liked."

"Then again, Gerald, anything with a heartbeat is fair game to you." Arnold crossed his arms. "You don't really care."

"No, that's where you're wrong." Gerald leaned forward. "See, right now I'm going out with Phoebe. This is a somewhat new development although we've been… 'close friends' for some time now. Everything else has been practice for when I do find that certain one. When I finally do meet the one, I'll have a firm understanding of everything and be able to stay committed."

"Is Phoebe the one?"

Gerald was still leaning forward, but his face was vacant of any expression. "I don't know that yet."

"Now how do you think she feels?" Arnold placed his hands in his pockets. "Right now, she doesn't know of any of this and loves you to death. If you happen to just break up with her right now, do you realize how badly you'll hurt her? Now imagine any other girl who you've broken up with in the past that you just consider as 'practice'. How do you think _they_ felt?"

Gerald shrugged. "You're bringin' me down, man."

"Not as much as you are them." Arnold leaned back on the chair and tried to crack his back. "But on another note, yes I'll go to the talent show."

"Well, that's all I wanted to know." Gerald stood up. "Yet now, I feel so dirty."

"I'm sorry about that, Gerald." Arnold stood up and patted him on the back. "It'll be alright."

***

Helga took her seat next to Arnold in Mr. Cleredon's class two minutes before the bell was going to ring. She placed her books on the table and immediately turned to the blonde-haired boy. "How was your weekend, pigskin?"

He turned his head over from the wall to the girl. "It was great, Helga. And how about yours?"

"Damn it, are you still moping abou…"

Arnold cut her off sharply, "No, I am not still moping about that."

"We need to find you…"

"No, we don't." Arnold placed his chin on the table. "I already went over this with Gerald, I don't need to watch the replay of it."

Helga felt really crummy about her actions. "Hey, I'm sorry Arnold."

Arnold sighed as he spoke, "Yeah, me too."

"What are you doing after school?"

He picked up his head and sulked at Helga. "I guess I'll just go home, collapse on my bed, and stay there until I fall asleep."

"Well…" Helga twiddled her thumbs about. "Why don't you… I don't know… wanna do something?"

"Heh," laughed Arnold morosely. "What'd you have in mind?"

"I don't know. I kind of owe you, though, for the whole… thing… with the thing…"

Arnold refreshed her memory; "High Stakes."

"That's it!" Helga snapped her fingers in excitement. "God, when was that?"

"Helga, is there any point to this?"

She nodded her head. "Yes there is. I have a job now; I'm making a little bit of money. I want to take you out. You need it."

Arnold placed his chin back on the desk. "I really don't want to, Helga. I'll just be wasting you time. I've wasted enough of people's time with my problems."

"Arnold, I could care less about that shit." Helga gripped him at the shoulders and turned the boy facing her, lifting his head off of the desk. "Come on! Stop with this!"

"Helga," he muttered fiercely. "Let go of me."

She shoved him back as she let go. "You are such a pain in the ass, you know that?"

"Well, where do you want to take me?"

"I'll figure that out later. I mean, if you feel odd because it's me, just bring Gerald with you or something."

Arnold lifted his eyebrow. "Have you been planning this?"

She wobbled her head back and forth on her shoulders. "In a way yes, but in a way no. Just please, it'll help…"

"If you've been planning this, wouldn't you already have a place in mind?"

"Shut up, Arnold!" Helga pounded her fist on the desk. "Are you in or out?"

"I can bring Gerald?"

"You could bring your grandparents for all I care!" She laughed lightheartedly and sighed. "Are you in?"

"Yeah, I'm in. Do you want to tonight?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Do you?"

"How about Friday?"

"Sure," she replied. "Friday's good."

"Alright then, Helga." He stuck his hand out waiting for her to shake it. "I'll see you then."

She gripped his hand and shook his whole body. "I'll see you then!"

The bell ring and they sat staring to the front of the class. Mister Cleredon would usually make a minute-late entrance and start class. Arnold turned to Helga. "That would've worked better at the end of the hour."

Helga puckered her lips inward. "Yeah."

***

Gloria answered the ring at the door to reveal Curly bent on his knee, strumming a small acoustic guitar painted pine green. She rolled her eyes into the back of her skull as he played a slow melody.

Curly winked at the girl standing at her own doorway. "I wrote this one last night… while spying on you from the building the next door." He took a deep breath and began singing: "_When I first saw you, I thought, 'Man, she's got it going for her. Yeah, she's really got it. Really, really got it…and she looks like she'd be great if I were to-_"

It was then that the door slammed in his face and Curly stopped playing the guitar. He rose off of his knee and pounded on the girl's door. "Gloria! Gloria! You didn't give me a chance to play the whole thing! I still have a chorus, another verse and a bridge!"

The door opened again, showing Gloria armed with a baseball bat and ready to swing. "Curly, just leave. Just back away from my house and _never_ come back."

Curly took a few steps back and got back on his knee with the guitar. "_-See if she'd be busy tonight! Come on, Glo-ri-a! The only girl that I adore-ee-ah! I'd really, really like some more-ee-ah! So, comma-comma-come on, Glor-"_

The door shut in his face again. A faint sound came from behind the door: "Leave me alone!"

Curly stood up off of his knees and stared at the door. "Fine… I guess I'll just the tape the song for you… and mail it. Good-bye, Gloria!"

She still dared not to open her door. "Get out of here!"

Curly stepped backwards off of the steps. "I'll be back here at around nine to just give you that tape. I can put those other songs about you that I think you liked on the tape. Hey, better yet, how about I burn you a CD?"

The door cracked open again and a planting pot filled with dirt flew past Curly's head. "GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I CALL THE COPS!"

Curly backed off further with his hands held up in the air. "Okay, Gloria. I'm leaving." He stepped off to the side and kept moving. "I'll be back later… around nine… with a CD for you… and a tape…"

"CURLY!"

"…Of the CD…"

"CURLY, GET OUT OF HERE!"

***

__

Dear Diary,

Hey, what up? Finally decided to pay back Arnold for his treatment to me so long ago. It seems odd, me hanging out with him, but I actually feel comfortable about this night coming up. Usually, I'm nervous of being too weird or being too uninterested. Right now, I feel calm about the whole thing. Right now, I feel like I could do anything and not even blink. But then again, whenever I feel confident it always goes wrong. It's the nature of the thing.

Anyways, there's been some more stuff going on. Bob keeps calling… Rob's house. I just realized that they both have the same name. "Big Bob" keeps calling Robert's house asking about me. Apparently, he has some separation problems being stranded away from me. Maybe if he realized that he kicked me out of the house against my will, he'd see how much of a jackass he is to even try and get me back. I'll never go back to that idiot, even if I end up with no home or money and am forced to live in the woods and feeding off of nuts and berries found along the trails… yeah, I'm not going back there.

Well, I feel sleepy for maybe the fifth time in my life and maybe I should go to bed. That way, I'll be nice and refreshed for tomorrow. I only have this to say in closing: even if me and Arnold never get together, I'll be able to die peacefully knowing that he's not with Ruth… or Lila… or that Summer chick from fourth grade… or that other one…

Helga G. Pataki


	28. Chapter 27: Red and Blue

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 27: Red and Blue

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"Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am young again.  
Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am fun again.  
  
How ever far away, I will always love you.  
How ever long I stay, I will always love you.  
Whatever words I say, I will always love you.  
I will always love you."  
The Cure - Lovesong

Arnold leaned up against the brick wall by the auditorium, waiting for Gerald to get out of the green room. Gerald had entered the talent show as competition and received a huge crowd response, but yet lost to the girl who could sing with an opera-style voice and has been in every school play and choir concert for the last four years. It's like that, but that wasn't enough to bring Gerald down about the day. He heard the school's response and that was enough. It's not whether you win or lose; it's that you didn't suck while you were doing your thing.

Arnold backed off of the rugged red bricks as soon as his friend came out of the doors. He held out his hand in a friendly gesture. "You were great, Gerald."

"I know that, you don't need to tell me." Gerald slapped his hand instead of shaking it, but gripped it soon afterwards and did their personal 'thumb-shake'. "So, what's going on with you?"

"Helga has cordially invited us to attend some kind of… thing tonight. She wants to thank me for something and also believes I need some cheering up." Arnold exhaled narrowly and hard out into the air. "You feel like tagging along?"

Gerald smirked. "Well, let's see… hmm… are you sure you two don't want to spend some _quality_ time together?"

Arnold walked away from the building. "Forget it then."

His friend hesitated for a moment but eventually ran to catch up with the football-headed teen. "Can I…"

Arnold answered before Gerald could finish, "Yeah, you can bring Phoebe."

"Where are we gonna meet?"

Arnold stopped in his place and was soon followed by his friend. "You know, I have no idea. I'm not sure if she said or not. I guess I'll have to call Robert."

"She's new at this, isn't she?"

"No, not completely." Arnold started walking with Gerald again. "Let's get off of this subject."

Gerald shook his head nonchalantly. "Nope, I can't do that. It helps to talk about this stuff."

"Not now it doesn't." They walked over to the parking space in the front left corner of the lot. Arnold's car rested there idling. "Let's talk about something else."

Arnold opened and stepped into the driver side door, alienating Gerald awkwardly outside of the car. A few seconds after the fact, Gerald walked in front of the car and over to the passenger side door where he proceeded to enter. "Okay, how about this: you call Robert while I go home to check in with the family. I walk over to your house to find out what's going on, and just hang out until everything is underway; maybe even call Phoebe to see if she knows anything or if she wants to go."

"I don't think she'll say no." Arnold shifted into reverse to exit his space. "That sounds alright with me."

The car peeled out of the parking lot with a boasting squeal. Gerald turned to the driver of the car. "Oh shit, man!"

"What?" Arnold never diverted his attention off of the road as he talked to his friend. "What's wrong?"

"Do you realize what tonight is?"

"No… no, I don't. What's so special about tonight?"

Gerald pounded a fist onto the dashboard. "It's been happening every year for almost… let's see… ten or so years now! Something like that, maybe longer. How long ago was the first annual…"

Arnold pounded the steering wheel while interrupting Gerald. "Ugh, you're right! You don't think she's going to… do you?"

"I think that may be why she planned it out on Friday."

"But she didn't," Arnold clarified. "I planned it for Friday."

"Hmm." Gerald coughed and then cleared his throat. "That's an odd bit of coincidence, but you and I both know there's only one reason anybody ever goes to the…"

***

"…Cheese Festival tonight and I'm paying for everybody, alright?"

Arnold stepped back off of the sidewalk from the front of Robert's house. They were in the process of leaving. Gerald and Phoebe were still entering the car as Helga and Arnold talked, where as Robert had been sitting in the driver's seat. It was Robert's mom's car; some inexpensive town car that was pretty nice for how much it cost. Phoebe and Gerald were getting in the back together. That left one seat available in the front and one in the back. Arnold cleared his throat; "Yeah, sure."

"What?" Helga shoved her hands viciously into her jean pockets. "What's wrong? You got a problem with it?"

"No," cowered Arnold. "No, I'm fine."

"Ugh!" She stomped her foot and rolled her eyes back. "Arnold, we're just friends here. It's not a date. Taking all of you out. Hang out with Gerald the whole night; I really don't care."

"No, I know that." He stepped back onto the sidewalk. "It's just that…"

"…All the bad history between us and the Cheese Festival?"

"Yeah." Arnold bit down on his bottom lip. "That would be it."

"Dude, that was fourth grade or so. There was also that one time back in eighth grade where I rigged the light fixture to hit you and I had to take you around the rest of the night in a wheelchair and keep you awake to avoid a concussion."

Arnold's eyelids widened past his whites. "You what? You did that?"

She looked down at her feet. "Yep, those were some crazy times. Get in the car, we're burning daylight."

***

Gerald motioned Phoebe to walk over to the bumper cars. After she had gone, he walked over to Arnold who had been aggravating him throughout the entire car ride. "Looks like it's on, man. I love these things. I don't think I'll ever get bored with this stuff. Hey, where do you think I can buy a funnel cake?"

Arnold pointed to his right. "At Lil' Johnny's Funnel o' Fun but that's not important. Why do you think we're here?"

"Arnold!" Gerald looked over his shoulder for a brief moment to make sure Phoebe was still at the bumper cars, but turned back quickly. "Look: high schoolers don't come to carnivals for fun anymore. We go here on dates. When a guy takes a girl here, he's trying to get farther with her. When a girl takes a guy here, she's either trying to seduce him or trying to get money from him. Helga's not interested in money; she's trying to win some feelings. Arnold, just go with the flow."

"Why can't you ever be helpful?"

"Why are you so up in arms about Helga?" Gerald took another quick glance behind himself. "She loves you, buddy, and even if you don't love her back, don't shut her out! That's just rude, man. Spend some time with her; enjoy yourself. Take a ride on the tilt-a-whirl and go home afterwards. Just cheer your ass up and quit being petty about all this crap. I gotta get back to Phoebe."

Arnold nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for putting this in perspective."

"Anytime you need it. Here comes Helga." Gerald pointed over Arnold's left shoulder at the blonde-haired girl with a handful of tickets. "Enjoy yourself."

"You too." Gerald left and Arnold turned himself around sharply to face Helga upon her arrival. "Hey."

"Hi, how ya doin'? Just got tickets. Where'd Robert go?"

Arnold shrugged. "I saw him over buy the midway."

Helga squinted over to where the games and contest were, scanning for her friend. "Huh. Wanna ride something?"

The eagerness in Helga's voice made him ashamed of how he had been acting towards the whole situation a few seconds earlier. He spoke with a smile too cheerful to be real; "I'll let you decide."

***

Gerald and Phoebe stepped out of the car and onto the sidewalk. "I'll just walk her home from here. Thanks for everything, Helga."

"Don't mention it." She smiled and peeked into the back seat. Robert had fallen over from his upright position in the back seat as soon as Phoebe had left and wasn't there to prop him up. During an intense cheese eat-off, Robert filled himself so full that he fell out of his chair and didn't have the energy to lift himself back up. He still lost to that disposal kid from fourth grade. After all these years, that kid can still pack it in. Sure, he ballooned to three hundred something pounds, but he can still pack it all in.

Arnold was now in the passenger seat as Helga drove away from the curb. The night was a disaster in his case. Gerald and Phoebe kept to themselves for the whole night and seemed to enjoy themselves. Before the cheese-off, Robert had been participating in many of the midway games away from Arnold and Helga. Their night together was more boring than a Barbara Streisand movie marathon. Helga pulled him along onto every spinning ride there was, and every time would scream into his ear at the top of her lungs. Why is it that women find that stuff so thrilling that they'll screech high enough to break glass?

Helga stopped the car in front of the Sunset Arms. She sulked back in the driver's seat and slammed her palm at the top of the steering wheel. "Well, here we are, my 'reign of terror' is over."

Arnold sighed. "Helga, thanks for everything, it's just…"

"Just get out of the car before I push you out."

He opened the door but hesitated with his hand on the interior handle. "I'm sorry I didn't have as much fun as you did, but thanks for the effort."

She smiled sarcastically at him. "Don't talk to me again. Get out of the car."

Arnold unbuckled his seatbelt with his jaw remaining open from Helga's words. "Oh, so we're back to the silent treatment?"

"Something like that, only I _did _tell you to shut up… yet you won't."

"Helga, come on…" Arnold stepped a foot outside of the car. "Don't let something this small destroy a friendship."

"Heh! 'Friendship'." Helga pounded her fist on the horn in frustration. "It's funny how you can say that when it was _you_ who went and ruined the whole evening."

"Helga, come on! It's just a stupid carnival for the young and the feeble minded." Arnold placed his foot back in the car. "I'm sorry if I was annoying to you throughout the whole evening…"

"You'll never like me more than a friend, will you?"

Arnold cocked his head down and shook it. "That's not fair. That is so not fair."

"Why not?" Helga rested her elbow on the center of the wheel and placed her head atop of her hand. "Why isn't that fair to ask? It's an honest question."

"But it's not something I can just willingly change my mind to. I can't just go against how I feel and say, 'Hey, Helga! Let's go out or something!' Can you?"

"That's not what I mean…"

"That's exactly what you mean and exactly what you want." Arnold turned towards the open door and placed both feet outside, pushing himself out of the car. On the curb, he leaned into the jam and continued to talk with Helga. "I wish there was someway that it wouldn't be so hard on you, but I can't find any other way to tell you. I only like you as a friend, even though you push me further away all the time."

"Arnold, it's not easy for me to change my mind either, but all this time that we've been friends, you don't…"

"Helga, I can't. I'm sorry. Your plan backfired, and I'm sorry."

"Oh, but you'll _gladly_ drop everything for that stupid Ruth girl, even after you realized how completely shallow she was back in fourth grade. Do you even remember that Valentine's Day?"

Arnold paused for a moment. "I do remember that, but she was a different person than before when I met her again. That didn't last either, but you already knew that."

"Yeah, how about that?" She took her elbow off of the wheel as she scowled bitterly at Arnold. "While you give her all of your attention, you've never even given me a chance!"

"Because I…" Arnold bit back the words from his tongue. "Because I don't like you."

Helga placed both hands on the steering wheel and faced forward. "Please close my door and get away from my car."

Arnold placed his hands out in front of him. "Okay, maybe that wasn't the best choice of words to use. I didn't mean that…"

She angrily shifted the car from park to drive. Through clenched teeth, she uttered, "Back off of my door or I'm driving with it open. Please save me some time and shut it. Thank you."

Arnold rested an arm on the top of the open car door. "I'm sorry, alright? Please don't leave like this."

She pressed down on the gas pedal and the car violently pulled from the vacant curb. Arnold's arm fell at his side as he jumped back from the car when it started moving. As soon as she motioned forward, the door was pushed forward into the door jam and almost closed itself completely. It was cracked open slightly as she drove back to Robert's house.

Arnold stood staring at the street where the car had been parked. Knowing that he had made Helga's life more miserable than before was enough to make him want to kick something. She's his friend, and has been before he knew anybody else. He knew her before he knew Gerald… technically. Sure, he had only seen her outside of the preschool, but he still met her before everyone else. That has to count for something.

He sadly walked away from the curb and inside the boarding house. The floor welcomed him as he collapsed onto it and fell asleep.

***

__

Dear Diary,

Life sucks.

Helga G. Pataki


	29. Chapter 28: Maybe

****

MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

****

CHAPTER 28: Maybe

________

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"Am I awake?  
The morning star that brings me here  
Says everything in me between Pluto and God,  
All Is Hellbent.  
My walls are closing in."  
Kenna - Hellbent

"A few more weeks and we're out of this place!"

Gerald slapped his hand on Arnold's back and smiled. The football-headed boy smirked lightly as they both walked down through the city. "That's almost true. We get out next week, but we actually graduate in June."

"Wow, man." Gerald snapped his fingers. "That's just too odd. You nervous?"

"Kind of." Arnold shook his head. "I don't know what I want to do when I go to college. I don't know what I'm going to do after college. With school, we've always had that place to wake up and go every day no matter what. In the real world, when it comes to work and what not, there aren't any suspensions when you mess up. They fire before they think."

Gerald let out a small breath of air. "Don't worry about it, man. You'll end up getting something good."

"What about you?"

"Told you before, college isn't in my future," Gerald said calmly. "I'm fine with that. I know I'm bound to land something sufficient for my living needs."

The blonde-haired boy sighed. "I just feel sorry for Helga."

"Yeah, I heard about that too. She didn't get her community service credit in and she's gonna have to stay another semester. Why feel sorry for her? She had all the time in the world to get that in, and now in May she realizes that she won't be graduating this year. It's her own fault."

"Yeah, but think about it!" Arnold looked at his friend confusedly. "I don't think we'll ever see her again. I don't think she'll even be invited to the reunion for our class."

Gerald placed a hand at the back of his head and began to scratch. "As sad as it is that I may never see Helga Pataki ever again in my life, I really can't feel much sympathy for her. Hey, who are you taking to prom?"

"I think I'm just gonna go stag." Arnold looked off into the clouds; bored with the common city landscape he had grown up with all of his life, he searched for something different it their fluffy shapes. "I don't have anyone to ask. I don't think it'd be hard to find a date, but I'm just sick of all of that. I don't want to bring a date if I don't have to."

"Then why even bother coming?"

"Because that's what you're supposed to do," he said shrugging. "You have to go to your prom. Who knows? Maybe I'll find someone by Saturday. I have a week."

Gerald smiled. "Take Helga."

"Dude, that joke is old already. Besides, you know she hasn't talked to me since March… at all. She wouldn't even take my birthday gift."

"Huh," his friend let out. "Weren't you invited to the party?"

"No, I wasn't."

"That's odd. I was." Gerald finally took his hand away from the back of his head. "I thought you just didn't want to show up."

***

"Don't you _have_ a date?" Helga put her headphones back on and looked back inside of her book. "What about Rhonda?"

Robert threw his hands in the air. "Haven't asked."

She jerked the headphones off of her head as she lay on the bed. "What?"

"I never asked her."

"Well, why don't you? I thought you two were getting along great now?"

"Oh, we are." He clapped his hands together in front of himself. "It's just…"

She snipped the last part of his sentence to make way for her questions. "Aren't you two going out? Isn't that the custom?"

"We are, but…" He trailed off in embarrassment. "We talked it over, and she could go to prom with anybody and still see me afterwards. But you live here too and I'm supposed to be looking out for you. It seemed that…"

"…That you think _I_ couldn't get a date so, out of sympathy, you'd figure I'd want to go to prom with you? No thank you, Mister Roberto." She put the headphones back on her head and gave way to a sarcastic and somewhat evil smile. "I'll be just dandy."

"Helga…"

She grabbed at the ears of the headphones and flung them violently off of her head. "What? What do you want?"

He placed both hands in his pockets and reeled back and forth on the front of his feet. "Look, you're going to this prom. Without me will be fine, but I am going to find someone if you won't go with me."

"What, don't think I can fend for myself?" She raised her hands in the air, waving her fingers around. "It's just a stupid dance. It's probably the biggest school dance of the year. Why should I go? I never attended any of the other ones."

"This isn't some run-of-the-mill thing, it's almost mandatory." As Helga went to put the headphones back on, Robert ran up to the bed and snatched them out of her hands. "Don't do this to yourself. If you wanna find someone, go ahead. Don't turn down my offer if you can't make it by yourself because as long as you live here, you're going to that prom."

She glared bitterly at her landlord. "Okay; let's say, hypothetically, I do go to this prom. What about afterwards? Will it really matter?"

"Yes, it will." He placed both of his hands at the side of the bed. "Everybody goes to their prom, and the one who don't end up miserable with everything in their life. You already have enough shit to cry about, you don't need more."

Helga let out a small chuckle. "I don't think I've ever heard you swear before."

Robert blinked, knowing she had just missed his entire discussion. "I'm sure you have. Please, try and take this seriously. You have to understand that I wouldn't pester you if I didn't care."

"Well, can't I just go by myself?" Helga grabs her bookmark off of the nightstand, realizing she'll never find out what's going to happen to Travelin' Jack in the Territories today. "I don't have to have a date."

"Yeah, but what kind of loser goes alone?"

***

They finally reached the boarding house. Arnold opened the door and stood back as a slew of animals rushed out like they always had. He turned to Gerald. "Also, if I go alone, I won't have to worry about a limousine. I don't care how I get there."

Gerald pushed half of his smile up towards the eye. "You don't have to worry about that. Phoebe and me are renting one and we've already agreed to take Harold and Patty with us. You could hitch a ride in the Limo-o'-Love."

"That would be good." Arnold nodded his head in thought. "You want me to chip in on the cost?"

"A twenty or something would be appreciated. We really did get a discount though thanks to Phoebe's parents." Gerald started to stare for no reason at the bottom of the stoop away from Arnold. "I think she could be the one."

"Are you sure about that?" Arnold stepped inside of the boarding house and motioned Gerald to follow.

He started to step up the concrete path. "I don't want anybody else, man. I'm tired of it. I just want that one that I can sit down and spend hours with yet never be bored. I think I've found that in Phoebe."

"Gerald," Arnold started as his friend made it through the doorway. "Don't make a decision unless you are absolutely sure. If it's just you being lazy and not wanting to find anybody else, you two shouldn't be together. If it's strictly about her, then you can't let her go."

"Yeah, I know." Gerald shut the door behind himself. "I'm not sure what to do, man. When it comes to that stuff, I'm kind of shallow."

"Just keep going with her." Arnold glowed a warm smile to ensure his friend to trust him. "When the time comes to make it official, you'll know. Is she going to college?"

"Hell yeah, she is!" Gerald's eyes almost fell out of his skull. "Her parents would kill her if she didn't."

Arnold had started to walk up the stairs to the hallway but stopped quickly. He turned his head slightly to eye Gerald. "Well, what about your parents?"

"Huh?"

Arnold turned back down the stairs. "You're parents are both educated people and possibly more stern than Phoebe's parents. Do they know about your college decisions?"

"My mom wishes like pain that she could send me, where as my dad says maybe me not going will wise me up to the real world." Gerald crossed his arms. "Never did understand my father. I guess he's just a cheapskate."

"I really wish you had better, Gerald."

***

"Well, why should I waste my evening dancing with some guy I've never seen before in my life just to say I had a date to prom? If I'm going to be there, it'll be on my own terms."

"Well, that's what me and Rhonda we're thinking about." Robert had finally taken a seat next to Helga on the bed. "See, if you're with me, it's not like being with a _complete_ stranger. You've known me for how long?"

"Longer than I can remember," let out Helga, "but you don't want to be there with me." She was now being very calm and easy. "I'll go to the prom, but I'll go by myself. You have a good time with Rhonda. I'll be okay. Besides, it's only Sunday. I have a week to change my mind."

Robert smiled. "I don't want you staying here alone on prom night."

"And I appreciate your concern. Case closed. Can I get back to my book now?"

"Yeah, you do that." Robert made his way off the bed and out to the door. "Dinner'll be at seven."

Helga picked up her book from beside her. "Why so early?"

***

"Any word back from the colleges though, buddy?"

Arnold collapsed on his bed as Gerald sat across the room on the couch. "Yeah. Baker College: it's almost as bad as community."

"At least it's something." Gerald lay down on the couch as Arnold had on the bed. "You can put it on a résumé."

"Gerald, what do you want to be when you grow up?" Arnold stared through the window on his roof. "It's a cheesy question, but honestly?"

"What do I want to be?" Gerald looked over to the bed. "Occupied. I don't want to be stuck with a job that does nothing. I need something to fill my time with. Occupied and rich."

"No, I mean what profession would you like to go into?"

"Anything that'll hire me and pay enough to pay the bills, with just enough to buy groceries and the occasional extra somethin'-somethin'."

Arnold shrugged. "That's one way of looking at it."

"What do you want to do?"

"Oh, I don't know, I was looking for ideas."

***

Eugene was standing in front of Sheena's door with a bouquet of roses. With a quick turn away from her smiling face, he pressed play on a small boom box next to his feet. An orchestral tune started to play through the speakers. Eugene bent himself down onto one knee. "Go with me to the prom, please Sheena!"

She gripped her hands together directly under her chin. "I will, Eugene." With that, she rushed the bouquet out of Eugene's hands. His body went leaning back a few inches, and soon he was flailing his arms in an attempt to try and maintain balance. With a small moan, his body went flying backwards off the top of the stoop, flipping on the stairs, and landing him face down on the sidewalk.

He lifted a scraped and bruised finger and muttered. "I'm okay…"

Sheena dropped the roses and rushed to the bottom of the stairs. "Are you okay, Eugene?"

"Yeah, I said I'm okay." He started to push himself off of the pavement. Then, with a teeth-gritting crunch, he grasped his back and fell onto the pavement again. "On second thought, you may want to call a doctor. Preferably a chiropractor."

***

Harold slammed the money on the table. "There it is! All of it! Do you want to go pay the bill?"

Patty had stopped sipping her milkshake to glare up at her boyfriend. "Why would I pay the bill?"

"Well, I don't know," uttered the fat Jewish boy. "Maybe you wanted to. My mom always gives me the option of whether or not I want to go pay the bill."

"Harold, how old are you?"

He scratched at his head, and then took off the bandanna that had replaced his hat to scratch his bald skull even more thoroughly. "Um… I turn twenty or something soon."

"How did that happen?"

"Well," he began, "I was held back for a few years… way early. The teachers all said I was too dumb to go onto the next class."

"And what grade was this?" she pounded out in her droning voice.

"Preschool." Harold nodded as he thought. "So since then, I've followed this graduating class. My parents say the stress of rejection has caused me to lose my hair, and for some reason it won't grow back. I'm not sure." He picked up a fry off of his plate and waved it around as he spoke. "You see, I don't think me being all ticked about being held back would've cause my hair to _never_ grow back. I think it might be some kind of gland disorder."

Patty moved away from her shake. "Wow, that's pretty observant. How can someone fail you in Preschool?"

"I don't know," he answered. "I can't remember. The only class I can remember is my last year with all of you guys. You, Arnold, that kid with the zits, the girl with the brown hair and the really weird nose. You know who I'm talkin' about?"

"Uh…" Patty spaced out over a cheesy James Dean picture on the wall. "No, I don't think I do."

"Don't worry, it's not you, but this chick was uglier than Predator." Harold ate the fry he had been waving around. "Ironically, she had a unibrow too. She also had this weird hair. It was somewhat like Nadine's; she also had this odd name you don't hear often… like Marrakech or something. Something Russian-sounding."

"Well, are we going to leave?" She slurped the last bit of her shake down through the small white straw. "I mean, what else is there to do?"

"We will, just wait." Harold scooped up the last five fries off of the plate and crammed them into his cheeks. With a mouth full of oil-fried potato, he continued to talk; "Maybe her name was Natasha, like that cartoon with the stupid moose."

"Harold, have you bought a suit for prom yet?"

He sat, blinking at the change of subject, and swallowed his mouth full of potato. "About that, I haven't _exactly_ gone out and rented a tuxedo. Matter of fact…" He tapped his fingers nervously on the tabletop while biting his lower lip. "…I was wondering if it was okay for me to _not_ wear a tux."

"Prom is a very formal occasion, Harold." She pushed the cup to the side of her so she had room to place her hands. "Everybody shows up neatly dressed, usually in a tuxedo. If not a tux, you better find a nice looking suit in your dad's closet or something."

"No," blasted Harold like a foghorn. He toned himself down for the rest of his sentence. "If you want me in a tux, I'll show up in a tux."


	30. Chapter 29: How it Goes

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 29: How It Goes

________

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"I'm only nineteen but my mind is old  
And when the things get for real, my warm heart turns cold."  
Mobb Deep - Shook Ones Pt. II

"…And the finals will be on the thirtieth," grumbled the disorientated Algebra teacher as she sat at her desk, leaning over the mug of coffee. "Hey, how many seniors are in this class?"

Five people raised their hands: Arnold, Park, and three other kids who had grown up in another part of the city. The teacher smiled, pretending to be happy, and motioned for the students to but their arms down. "Yeah, you'll be gone before all these other losers."

A small sophomore in the front row lifted his head out of a notebook. "Hey!"

"Anyway," the teacher continued, "seniors, you get off on Thursday making you just one day short of missing my final."

Helga batted her pencil against the spiral binding of her notebook. "Friggin' community service." She then took the pencil and flung it at the ceiling, making it stand straight up into the pegboard surface.

"Because of this, all seniors are excused from taking the test." She groggily sipped at the mug of coffee that, for _some_ odd and mysterious reason, smelled somewhat like bourbon. "So what you guys do all week, I don't care about. Who will actually be attending school for the next few days?"

Nobody raised his or her hands except for Arnold. "Um, Misses Brown?"

"Yes," she hesitated as she looked up the chair on the seating chart. "Arnold?"

He put his hand down and answered back, "I thought it was required for all of the seniors to show up for the last week of school or else they can't graduate. I know it's something along the lines of that."

The teacher cocked her head back and cackled heartily. "Ha! As if they ever check! Do you really think this school is gonna tell a senior that they can't graduate for missing school too late?"

Arnold slowly nodded his head. "Yeah… actually, I thought that was what happens."

She sipped from the coffee mug again. "I thought teens would lose gullibility in puberty. That rule is a scare tactic and is about as real as Big Caesar."

"What?"

***

Gerald walked with Arnold, holding a clipboard in front of him. "Okay, I've got everything scheduled for tomorrow night: the Limo is paid for, the tux is at my house, and I may have a connection for some champagne. What do you think, man?"

Arnold rolled his eyes and turned to his friend. "That's illegal."

"What, renting a Limo?" Gerald whipped out his wallet quickly and pulled out a credit card. "Mom said I could use it."

"Not that, Gerald; the champagne." Arnold kicked at a small glass bottle on the ground. "We're not twenty-one."

"Hey, we're all friends." Gerald slapped Arnold on the back. "Nobody'll snitch. You're not gonna snitch, are you?"

"No, I won't tell."

"Cool." Gerald brought his hands in front of him and cracked his knuckles. "Don't mess up the night for everybody else. I know it's not your thing, but you can still give some respect to the rest of us. You won't tell, I won't tell."

"It's alright, man, I'm not saying anything."

"I know. Hey, you find a date yet?"

Arnold bit down on his lower lip and shook his head gently. "Nope. It's gonna be a lonesome prom."

"I need to get you going with a woman, my man," he said as they stopped at a crosswalk. "You have to go with somebody. I think they check at the door."

***

She opened the door to find Robert with his hands behind his back. "Find a date?"

Helga rolled her eyes and slammed the door in the young man's face. After she walked away, he opened it again and followed her into her room. "I thought we talked about this. You never found a date?"

Helga reached onto her bed and jumped her way onto it. "For your information, I did find somebody."

"Really?" Robert cocked his head in surprise. "Who?"

"Ah, you wouldn't know him." Helga twiddled her thumbs as she talked to him. "He doesn't go to our school."

"Huh," he said, scratching his head while still looking at her. "Where'd you meet him?"

"At work, where I have to be in a half hour." She lifted her hand and dusted him away. "Now in case you _want_ to watch me change, I suggest you leave. I still have to get showered and into uniform."

"Oh." Robert moved backwards to the door and quickly went behind it. "Well, do you need anything?"

"Nope, everything's good here." She flashed thumbs up at him with both hands. "I'll be picking my dress up after work today."

"Do you have a ride for the whole thing?"

"Yeah." She propped herself up on the bed with her arms. "Jim's got it all set up."

"Jim?"

"Yeah; Jim." She motioned for him to leave once again, losing her arm balance and falling to the bed. "His name is Jim. Now leave."

He nodded and closed the door. "Alright, Helga."

***

It was five-thirty in the morning when the boy with the red-framed glasses appeared at her steps. In his hands was a large bouquet of roses, discounted at Miss Vitello's. Still kicking and alive, Curly knew she wouldn't be there for long. He knocked on Gloria's door and waited for a response. After waiting almost thirty seconds, he balled his fist up and pounded the door almost hard enough to knick the wood.

A man in his late thirties, wrapped in a robe groggily answered the door. "What? What do you want?"

Curly produced the biggest grin he could muster; a cold smile that brought chills, like watching rats feed. "Hello, sir. Is you daughter about?"

"Huh?" The man scratched himself with one hand and rubbed the tired out of his eye with the other. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The smile quickly vanished. "Are you Gloria's father?"

"Yeah," he said as he placed both hands in his robe pockets, "I am. She's still sleeping, kid. She probably won't be awake until a few more hours. You wanna leave a message or something?"

"Nah," dismissed Curly lightly. "That's alright. Would you mind if I waited on your steps for her to wake?"

The old man glared at the boy's eagerness. "Yes; yes, I would mind. Get out of here."

With that, he slammed the door in his face and turned to Gloria. "Next time he comes around, you're dealing with him."

Gloria looked at the carpet as she fiddled with her hair. "Hey, dad. How much do you think a P.P.O. costs?"

"Too much trouble and money than you can afford." He scratched his faced groggily and sighed. "If it were that easy, that little creep would've been long gone. Now go to sleep." The man walked away from the front door and disappeared into a bedroom behind Gloria.

***

"Uh…" Brainy opened the door to its full extent after having coward behind it for the past five minutes. "Yeah?"

"Brainy, please?" She crossed her legs together. "Please go to prom with me?" She slid out a large ticket from her pocket, covered in a plastic case by the school like a gigantic key chain. "I've paid for it, all you have to do is go with me."

"Um…" He bit down on his bottom lip and thought for a few seconds. Getting a woman to pay for anything is a rare and unappreciated practice in today's world. It's not like he would've actually had the gall to turn her down without her paying anyway. "Um… sure."

"Please, Br…" The girl trailed off in the middle of her sentence. "What?"

"Uh… yeah, I'll go."

"Oh." She slapped her hands at her sides and rolled back and forth on her feet. "Well… thanks, I guess…"

Brainy gripped his hand at the doorknob. "Your welcome."

"Yeah." She crossed her feet and stared at them. "Wow, I guess I don't know where to go from here. When will you pick me up?"

"Uh…" Brainy started closing the door slowly but sticking his body through the opening. "How about seven?"

"Seven's good." She clapped her hands together and reached to hug Brainy through the opening left in the door. "Thank you so much, Brainy."

He took the affection on the receiving end and stood lifeless as she wrapped her arms around him. "Okay."

She kissed him on the cheek and stepped back from the door. "You don't know how much this _means_ to me."

Paralyzed by her kiss, Brainy fainted backwards from the door. The look of confusion never left his face. As he lay on the floor, he managed to utter out, "Ow…"

The girl then pushed the door open and rushed to him. "Oh my God, are you hurt?"

***

The door opened and Phoebe slipped her head through. "Hi, Helga."

She shifted her face away from the small television in the corner. "Phoebe! Hey, what a freakin' surprise! What are you doing here?"

"I came here to see how you were doing," she replied. "Partly on my behalf and partly on your dad's. He's really worried about you, you know."

"Yeah, I bet he is," she snapped. "Tell him I joined a religious cult on its way to commit mass suicide at Niagara Falls. What do _you_ want to know?"

"Well, I just wanted to know what's new." She sighed and took a seat on the floor. "We don't talk much anymore. Prom plans?"

"None," she yawned. "I'm not going to that stupid dance."

"That's not what Robert says. He's talking about some guy named Jim."

"Yeah," she said with a chuckle. "I made that up to humor him. Don't tell him otherwise. I told him I was going out with my online male alias: Jimmothy."

She cocked her head in confusion. "Jimmothy?"

"Yeah, it's a mix between James and Timothy. If I ever have a kid," she explained, "I don't care what my husband says; one of those kids is gonna be named Jimmothy."

Phoebe scratched at the back of her head. "Well, that'd be rather… unique, I guess."

"You bet it is! Why give him some boring name that fifty million other people in the world have? Think about it!" She stood up from her bed, flaring her arms about. "How are you gonna make fun of a kid with that name? All usual insults would be too simple and stupid to actually take in to offense. With a name like that, everybody's gonna want to meet him and know who he is. He'll be the most popular kid in school! Haven't you always wanted to know somebody with one of those rare, unique, one-of-a-kind names? Like Seven, or Ponyboy, or…"

Phoebe interrupted her train of thought, "You know, I don't hear the name 'Helga' too much in society."

Helga paused for only a second. "Huh? Anyway, my point is that he'll be somebody to remember. Even if you didn't like him much, you'd always recall 'Jimmothy? I remember that kid. That guy had one of the coolest names I've ever heard of.' Do you follow me, Feebs?"

She shrugged and smiled falsely. "I guess I do."

Helga blinked in disbelief, knowing her friend did not share the same views as her. She then took her place back at the bed. "Back to your question, I'm not going to prom. I thought that maybe I'd just catch a movie instead. What's playing, do you know?"

"A movie?"

"Yeah, it's cheaper than the prom." Helga cracked her knuckles and stretched her arms in the air. "You going with Gerald?"

She snickered and looked up at Helga. "Sure am."

"You sound distraught." She straightened her back out and stuck her hands out in front of her. "Is something wrong?"

She slammed her fist down on the soft carpet. "Helga, you're not going to prom! This is almost mandatory as being in High Sch…"

"Blah, blah, blah, I've heard it ten times around or so." She clapped her hands in front of her friend's face. "Wake up! This is a new day. We aren't bound by the traditions set in the past. Screw what's expected; I'm not going and nobody can force me to go."

"What about Arnold?"

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

Phoebe folded her arms and closed her eyes snobbishly. "I guarantee that if that football-headed oaf were to walk in here and ask you to prom, you abandon all of this high and mighty trail blazing and rush yourself to the prom!"

She smiled. "You need to be assertive more often, you take quite a shine to it."

"Am I right?"

"You've got me there, I admit it." She rested down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "The only problem is that I don't see that happening anytime soon."

Phoebe glared at her friend and then stared at the carpet. With a faint breath, she uttered, "What if that's not as impossible as you think?"

Helga sprung up from her bed alarmed. "What?"

Her friend snapped to attention and shook her head. "What? Nothing! Nothing at all."

She waved a finger and shook her head. "No, no, no. You said that I might be wrong about not having a chance with Arnold. How am I wrong?"

Phoebe backed up from the wall and glanced at her wrist. "You know what? I have to go. It's past my curfew."

"Phoebe, it's four o'clock in the afternoon." She threw a hand out, palm open to the ceiling, at her friend rising off of the floor. "Besides, you're not even wearing a watch!"

"Helga, I must be going…"

She leaped from the bed, lunged to her friend, and pinned her shoulders to the wall. She grumbled in a menacing voice, "What were you talking about, Phoebe?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat and opened her mouth. "Well…"


	31. Chapter 30: The Ceiling

****

MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

****

CHAPTER 30: The Ceiling

________

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"Sometimes I believed what you had to say,  
Then I watched you bleed all the truth away.  
Somewhere in my heart there's a place I know  
Where all our dirty little secrets go."  
Pat Benatar - Dirty Little Secrets

Gerald answered his door. "Yeah… what are you doing here?"

"Cough up the journal, buddy, I know you have it." Helga propped her hands at the side of the doorway. "Fork it over."

"Girl, what are you talking about?" Gerald scratched at the side of his face. "What journal?"

Phoebe stepped up from behind Helga. "She forced me into talking! I didn't want to do it!"

Gerald lifted an eyebrow at the girl in front of him. "So you know about it."

"I wanna see it with my eyes, hair-boy." She took her hands away from the door and put them at her sides as fists. "If you really stole Arnold's journal, I want to see it for myself."

Gerald put his hands over his face. "You told her _that_ much, Phoebe?"

She nodded guiltily. "Yeah."

Helga folded her arms. "Look, I'm not gonna tell Arnold unless you let me have that journal."

***

"See," Gerald started as the two girls followed him to his room, "Arnold's been my best friend for years. I have no real hateful reason to steal from him, but this I just had to. One day, he had left me up in his room and I found it. When flipping through the pages, I started reading slightly about how he felt for you, Ruth, that girl down the street who dropped out last year."

Helga spoke out in question, "Lila?"

"Nah, the other one. I think her name was Vanessa." They reached his room and he pulled out his key ring. "Anyway, I had to snatch it. When he noticed it missing, I said that he probably just misplaced it. If he knows I stole something this personal from him, he may not trust me. I was gonna return it before school let out."

"How current are the entries?" Helga asked.

After sliding the key in and twisting, Gerald's door opened to reveal his room. "Seeing how I stole it two months ago, it's pretty recent. Are you sure you want to read it? Not everything in there about you is positive."

"Just give me the book!" she yelled. "Come on!" She was now shaking like a withdrawing drug-addict.

"Okay, okay." Gerald walked over to a far-off wall in his room, opened a dresser, and produced a small, red hardcover book. "Here you go, and don't you tell one single person."

"Gerald," she squeaked as she gripped the book, "I'll never say another unkind or incriminating word about you."

"Yeah, that's all good and all," he said as he pushed at her back, "but you gotta get out of here before somebody seen you. You being at my house will make any other people who know of the book suspicious."

"Okay," she drooled as she held the book. "Okay." She started to walk down the stairs with Phoebe.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Gerald scolded. "Phoebe can stay."

***

__

Dear Journal,

It was the first day of school and all's well and good. The year is shaping out to look all right. I don't know why it's happening, but Helga's back to her old bitterness. It's funny - last year we were both pretty neutral, the year before that we didn't have much of a problem. For some reason, it's like fourth grade again, but yet not. She did talk to me twice but other than that it seems like she hasn't changed.

The only problem is that I know that since then she has_ changed. I can tell it's not the same person I used to know. That isn't necessarily a bad thing. I liked last year's Helga, but I have to say that for some reason this Helga is… something. She really is something._

***

"Huh?" Helga gazed puzzled at the book. "Hmm, well… this doesn't do me any good." She flipped rapidly through all of the entries in her room at Robert's house, searching for something else she could feed her craving with.

Then she found it.

***

__

Dear Journal,

Today's just been completely miserable. I'm still sore after that crap I went through with Helga in detention, and now Gerald's bringing up the memories of Autumn Swanwick. Everywhere I turn, I can't escape the loves of my life that walk all over my face…

***

"Oh, my GOD!" She stood up from her bed and set the book on the dresser beside her. Stepping back from it as if taking caution from a hot flame, she slowly started breathing to stop herself from fainting. "Oh, man! Damn!"

A knock swiftly landed on her door causing her heart to jump inside of her ribs. "WHAT?" she snapped back.

The muffled sound of Robert's mother's voice came as soft as possible. "Helga, are you okay in there? What's going on?"

"Um, nothing," she replied calmly. "Nothing's goin' on, I'm just reading a book… with a lot of surprising twists."

"Are you sure?" the mother asked. "Can I come in?"

Helga nodded, mistaking that Robert's mom did not have x-ray vision. She followed it up with, "Oh, yeah, sure. Door's unlocked."

The door slowly creaked open and the familiar face peeped through the crack. "Okay. I was just a little concerned. I was putting towels away and I heard you screaming. Thought that something might be terribly wrong."

Helga grimaced at the thought. "Well, I really appreciate you caring so much, but I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she stated, now a tiny bit annoyed. "I'm sure."

The mother shrugged. "Okay then. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." With that, she shut the door as slowly as she had opened, hoping not to disturb the environment she intruded on.

Once again, Helga nodded and this time waved at the door. "I will." Her hand quickly shot down and she rushed to the book. After finding her page, she sat on her bed and read on.

***

__

…I know Helga thinks I'm angry with her right now. That's kind of what I want her to think. Then again, I just don't want her to even think of confronting me: I know all I'll get is her artificial bad attitude. I've often just wanted to grip her by the collar and tell her how bad of a liar she is.

I don't, though. I never do because she's my friend, even if she won't accept it. I care about her as much as I care about the welfare of my grandparents. After every nasty, rotten thing she's ever said or done to me, she'll never be able to take that away. Inside, I know she's scared of the world around her. Maybe I care for her so much because I want to help her, or because I think I love her.

Whereas she is a bad liar, I seem to be doing extremely good…

***

Helga scrambled to close the book and slide it under the bed. As soon as she collected herself back on top of the mattress, she flung her hands out to the ends of the mattress and sighed with fluttering breath. "Oh, Arnold… you _do_ love me!" She slapped herself but could not wipe the dopey grin off of her face. "Oh, dearest Arnold…"

She quickly fell asleep on the bed, still frozen in the same position when she woke up; arms wide and smiling, gripping on her thoughts as her teeth did her bottom lip.

***

__

Dear Journal,

I'm such a loser. She comes and tells me she loves me and I shut her out. What's wrong with me? I just let this poor girl with so much junk happening in her life, confessing her feeling to me, go out into the cold to possibly commit suicide! What the hell! I'm so freaking stupid!

***

Helga snickered at the book's remarks. "That's right, football-head. You certainly are stupid."

A knock came at her door. _Crimeny! Does it ever stop?_ Robert poked his head in as Helga put the book down on the bed. "Um, I see that you're awake now."

"Yeah," she gaspingly let out. "It would seem that way."

"Well, it is ten o'clock in the morning and you haven't come out yet." As he spoke, his eyes never lost their concentration on his shoes. "I came in here to see if you were awake. Breakfast?"

"I'll be out in a minute, Rob-Job." _That's another good one. _"By the way, don't ever come in here to see if I'm awake," she spouted out matter-of-factly. "What if I was sleeping in the nude?"

Robert swallowed all confidence he had left in himself. "Well, you don't sleep naked. You told me."

"Yes, but what if I _had_?" She crossed her arms. "I also toss and turn in my sleep. What if you came in here and I had lost my blanket in the middle of the night?"

He raised his hands to show his innocence to her. "Sorry, my fault. It won't happen again."

"Ah, I don't mind anyway." She smiled, letting him know that the whole argument was just a joke. "Smile, tonight's the prom."

He grinned at her and closed the door carefully, allowing her to get back to the journal. "Let's see, what else is in this thing?"

***

__

Dear Journal,

Why won't Helga see that I get the point? I know she loves me yet everyday she keeps trying to rub it in somehow. Well, at least today it was rubbing in. She wrote me a poem and slipped in my mail slot. Like I don't already get it! Jesus, what's wrong with her?

I really shouldn't be complaining and all. I know Ruth is cheating on me. There's no doubt in my mind that this relationship hasn't ever had a chance. Every time I've talked to her recently, I've noticed this weirdness between us. It would be so easy to run to Helga… or Vanessa for that matter…

***

Helga held the book away from her in confusion. "Who the hell _is_ Vanessaanyway?"

***

__

…I just know that as soon as we could work things out, she'd deny us like she always has at the mention of my name. I know it's happened before, and I know it will happen again. She'll start making fun of me in public just to apologize for it when we're alone. She needs to grow a spine or else the world's gonna wipe its feet on her forehead…

***

She sped through the pages. "Fuck that, what's the last entry say?"

***

__

Dear Journal,

Today, the usual - Grandpa's almost bedridden, Grandma's been ranting for some reason or another, and Helga is bitterly avoiding me. I'm so sorry that I really was annoyed by her carnival idea… That's for couples. The whole night was nothing but watching Gerald trying to swallow Phoebe's face whole, biting occasionally. No matter what I do, I can't help myself from causing her to get pissed off. After stepping away from the car after lying about how I don't like her, I honestly felt like slashing my wrists and ending everything. When I woke up this morning, I still felt like ending everything A.S.A.P.

That was until I talked to Grandpa. Grandpa made me realize that life is too short and that I need to live my life to its fullest while I still can, or before I know it I'm going to be half awake and almost dead in a wheelchair pushing ninety. I tried going over to Robert's house to talk to her and explain everything, but Robert kept telling me she didn't want to talk to me. I've lost my chance and there's nothing I can do about it. I feel terrible.

***

She blinked, releasing the mist gathering in her eyes. "Holy shit," she muttered softly in despair. She turned the page back to read the entry from the night before.

***

__

Dear Journal,

It's three o'clock in the morning and I forgot to write in your pages when I came home.

Life sucks.

***

Her fist pounded slow and hard on the door. "Open up, damnit! Open up!"

A boy with glasses greeted her with a confused glare. "Hey, what's that for? All you had to do was knock, for cryin' out loud."

Helga reached out, yanked Curly's shirt collar, and shook him violently. "_Are you going to prom?_"

Even though being physically threatened, the ego inside him instantly shone through. "Why, Helga, I had no idea…"

"I don't want to go with you, you idiot!" She released him. "I need your ticket!"

"Well, I am going, but my date will be extremely upset if I wasn't there to dance with her."

Helga quickly got a hold of her self and sighed heavily. "Curly, we've all noticed it and been meaning to tell you about it, but Gloria does not like you. It just was not meant to be."

He backed off a few steps and distanced himself with his arm outstretched. "WE _WERE_ MEANT TO BE! YOU'LL SEE! I SHALL BE WITH HER TONIGHT! AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA…"

She jumped forward, knocked his arm out of the way and smacked him in the face. "Get real, jack-ass! Just give me the ticket! You can always sneak through the back door."

Curly stood frozen in his shoes. "Hmm… why can't _you_ sneak in through the back?"

"Because it's dangerous and risky." Helga moved beside him and nudged him on the arm. "Sounds like it's right up your alley there, sport."

"Yes," he said rubbing his chin. "Yes, it does. Okay, you can have my pass."

***

"Hey, Robert," Helga started as she stood at the payphone. Sure, going home and talking to him would save fifty cents, but this way was easier. "Is Rhonda driving you to prom?"

The voice on the phone hesitated. "Um… well, we worked it out and she's gonna have a Limo pick us up. Why?"

"I talked to Jim," she lied, "and he said he's gonna be there but he's gonna be late. I wanted to know if I could maybe hitch a ride with you two."

"Well, I don't know." A TV could be heard in the background, which Helga could clearly hear was a 'Great Grape' commercial. "It's going to be me and her alone in that back seat. She may not enjoy you sitting with us."

"Oh, that's okay. I can sit up in the passenger seat with the chauffeur." She tapped her nails against the side of the metal shell to the phone. "Just have the partition rolled up and I won't even be in sight."

"I can ask," her friend replied unsure. "I'll tell you what she says when you get home."

Helga rolled her eyes. "That's the thing though. I'm not coming home until later. I have some things to take care of in town. I wanted to know when she'd be around if it were okay. How 'bout I just call in a half-hour? Will you have the answer then?"

"I should." The sound of a chip crunching over the phone pierced the silence. "Call back in a half-hour."

"Okay; thanks, Chief." She quickly hung the phone back on the hook and ran as fast as she could away from the booth. "Yes!"


	32. Chapter 31: The Roof

****

MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

****

CHAPTER 31: The Roof

________

__

"I cannot communicate like I wish I could.  
I do not deal with my problems like I know I should.  
I am out of my depth; I am out of my league,  
Watching everything just slip away from me."  
Everclear - Out Of My Depth

She stood quivering at the doorbell to her own house. Not Robert's bed and breakfast, but Pataki headquarters. She debated inside of her mind: _Come on, you know your dad would love you coming home. You know your mother no doubt misses you. You know that Miriam pledged the dress Olga wore to prom when it was time. She owes it to you. _She went for it and pushed the button.

A half-awake, fully hung-over Big Bob Pataki answered the door. "Wha... wha-who's there?" He opened his eyes and saw his daughter staring back at him. "Helga?"

"Bob," she calmly began, "I know we had our problems but-"

Before she could finish the sentence, Bob wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, Helga! Come on in!"

She fidgeted her shoulders in his tight grip. "Yeah, I would if you'd just let go of me…"

He loosened his arms and put them at his side. "Oh, yeah, sure. Come on in and take a seat! Crimeny, how've you been?"

She slowly crept through the oh-so-familiar doorway and on to the living room couch. Bob quickly followed her and made his way to the recliner. Helga cleared her throat to answer her father. "I've been great. You?"

With no hesitation, he responded, "Terrible! Ab-so-lutely terrible!"

"Yeah," she said rubbing the back of her neck. "I didn't really expect you to answer the door. I thought you worked today."

"What?" he groggily asked. "Oh, yeah. I haven't been to work very much recently. Usually I'll have my assistant manager Doug run the store while I just get paid for owning the joint."

***

A customer approached the clerk sitting by the cash register reading a dirt bike magazine. "Hi, I'd like to buy a beeper but I'm not sure which one is right for me."

The clerk reached over to a bag of a cheese curls under the counter and popped a few into his mouth. "So?" he mumbled.

"Um, I was wondering if you could assist me in my purchase. What do you think is good for me?"

After filling his mouth with another handful of cheese curls, he managed to let out, "That's not my job. Buy something or get out."

The customer stared at the clerk with a face full of question. "Can I see your superior, sir?"

"I _am_ my superior," he bragged as he flipped the page. "But I _can_ see your dumb ass out to the exit unless you buy something. Get on with it."

***

"Yeah, business isn't doing that well, the house is falling apart. A few weeks ago, my foot fell through one of the stairs. Had to have a guy come out and put down new wood for each step." Bob put his hands on the recliner's armrests and leaned forward. "You want something to drink?"

Helga waved and shook her head. "Nah, I'm fine."

"Sure?" he asked as he stood up. "Milk, water, pop, beer?"

"Nah, I'm okay." She rested her hands on top of her knees. "You don't need to feed me."

"Oh," uttered Bob as he sat back in the chair. "Okay then. Well, why'd you come back?"

Helga twiddled her thumbs and stared at the carpet. "There's actually two reasons I came. One was because I haven't talked to you since the incident and felt kind of bad about it."

"No," dismissed Bob. "Nope, that was all me there. I'm sorry I blew up at you that night. I've been a complete wreck ever since you left."

"Yeah, I heard." She looked up and smiled slightly. "The other reason'll sound kind of selfish. Remember how mom said I could have Olga's old dress when I had my prom?"

"That's not selfish," stated Bob bluntly. "Hell, we _promised_ that to you. Take it, it's upstairs. When's your prom?"

"Tonight." Her focus returned to the ugly carpet of the Pataki living room. "I need it for tonight."

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather have a new dress? I mean you're a little old for your sister's hand-me-downs." Helga reached in his back pocket for his wallet. "Do you need some money?"

"Dad, I appreciate your offer, but this way's easier." Her attention shifted from the ugly carpet to a really bad family photo of the mid-eighties Patakis on the wall, with Helga as a scowling little toddler. "Besides, I really like that dress."

"You always said you hated it."

"That was just my youth talking," Helga snickered. "Can I have the dress?"

"Yeah, sure." Bob pointed up to the upper level of the house. "It's in the guest room's closet. Can't miss it."

"Thanks, Dad." Helga got up from the couch and hugged her father.

Bob returned the kindness and patted her back as he hugged her. "Yeah, your welcome, Helga."

***

Before entering the extra bedroom, she stopped down the hall to her old room. It was left almost the way she left it. All of her stuff was gone, but it seemed like everything was positioned to look like she still lived there. All the pictures that she smashed and knocked down were posted back up in better than perfect condition. The old frames had been replaced with newer, flawless ones. The carpet had definitely been replaced but only to show a deeper color. The bed had freshly cleaned sheets and an unopened comforter on it. The closet had new outfits Helga had never seen before hanging in it with the tags still attached. _I guess Bob really wanted me back,_ she thought to herself.

On top of her bookshelf was a picture new to her room. It was of Bob holding her on his shoulders when she was five. The background looked like an amusement park of some sort. It wasn't Dinoland, but something close to it. It might have been a small, city carnival. Whatever the case, it was an odd picture. She had that same pink dress on like she always had, where as Bob had a black sweater with a larger brown, horizontal stripe in the middle. There were no other family members in the shot. There wasn't even anybody in the background with an identifiable face. It was almost surreal: just her and her father actually having a good time.

***

She came down the stairs holding a clothes hanger with a large white zipping cover. "Found the dress."

"It's the only thing in that closet," said Bob turning away from the TV. A football game must've been in progress when she came over because it was back on now. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, I'm good." She grinned, thinking of more she could ask for. "Actually, Dad, I was wondering if you had maybe twenty bucks."

He immediately reached back for the wallet. "Yeah, I got twenty smackers in here."

Helga laid the dress on the couch and took the twenty of her father's hand. "I was also wondering if… I could move back in."

She cringed back expecting the powerful laugh of Big Bob Pataki. _Ha! Move back here! Once you're out, you're out, missy! Ain't no turning back!_ Any moment now, she knew he was going to hit her with it.

"Sure! Anytime! Whenever you want to! Do you wanna move in today?"

Helga let go of her unconsciously balled fists and opened her eyes. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah!" His look of delight quickly flipped to suspicion. "Why, what's wrong? Are you hiding from somebody? Are things terrible at your new place?"

"No, it's fine over there," she explained. "It's just too… wholesome. His family is too connected together, I'm not charged that much of a rent now that I have a job, and they actually cook a well-balanced breakfast every morning." Helga plopped herself on to the sofa next to Bob, making sure she didn't sit on the dress. "It's like I'm living with the Cleavers."

Bob started laughing in that whole-heartedly fashion Helga had earlier been frightened of. "Yeah, I know how that is. Think a little dysfunction'll straighten you out?"

She chuckled lightly. "Something along the lines of that. I can't move back in today though. Can you give me until next weekend?"

"Honey, you go ahead and just park yourself back in whenever you want. The sooner the better, better late than never."

"Alright." She stood back up and held out her hand. "Well… thanks for everything. I'll be back next weekend."

"Fine," he happily responded while shaking her hand.

"Hey, where's Miriam?"

He slumped down in the recliner. "Well, she's out and about. After you left, she took some job processing loans or some crap like that. She's hardly ever home anymore."

She clapped her hands and rubbed them. "I'm gonna have to talk to her tomorrow or something then. I'll see you next weekend, Dad." With that, she grabbed the dress and headed towards the door.

Big Bob waved from his recliner. "See ya, Helga."

As she closed the front door, she smiled and sighed. _Not once did he get my name wrong._

***

"So," Helga mumbled in the front seat with the Limousine chauffeur. "How's business? Do you drive Princess back there everywhere?"

The man this time was a large, bulky man with no hair and almost no eyes. The squints that did squeeze onto his face were maybe wide enough for only the littlest of light to get through. How he actually saw where he was driving Helga had no idea. In a thick, taxi-driver like accent, the man replied, "Nah, I'm just for tonight. Her father pretty much owns the company I work for. They usually sent some other guy with a name I can't remember."

A voice drifted up from the call button. "Romero is the usual driver. Mind you, we can hear anything you say back here without you pressing a button. It's not fixed yet."

The man smiled and looked at Helga, raising his eyebrows up. "We'll be more respectful, Miss Lloyd." He smiled and put his attention back on the road.

Helga propped her elbow on the bottom of the door window and rested her face inside of her palm. The lights on the lampposts sped by rapidly like shooting stars in the sky. Helga put her arm down and leaned into the intercom speaker. "Hey, Mac, did you hear about that disease floating around? That one you can catch from even the slightest physical touch of a carrier? Some people may be harboring the disease and not even know it themselves. Death is pretty much imminent after six hours. Have you had yourself checked recently?" She grimaced and pointed to the speaker.

The chauffeur smiled and leaned over a little himself to a position where he would not be diverted from the road. "Why, yes, I did. In fact, I heard the cleaning guy has it. As soon as he was done with this car, he had to be rushed to the hospital. You don't suppose that the disease could survived for a half-hour in the fabric of the seats?"

Helga's mouth cracked as if to laugh but made no sound. "Hell, a super-virus like that, I bet it could last five years in that backseat!"

***

Robert and Rhonda unlocked their mouths and stared at the speaker. Robert smirked at Rhonda. "That would be Helga."

Rhonda leaned back; her black hair tied back in an eloquent fashion. "I know."

He sat frozen in his tuxedo just gazing at her. "What'll happen after school's out with us?"

She shrugged and glanced to the roof of the car. "I don't know. Where are you going to college?"

"Pittsburgh Institution of Art." He turned and looked at the partition; anything to get away from looking at her face while he told of his pathetic college plans. "I figure after I've been there a few years, I could maybe work my way to another college. I wanna be an art teacher."

Rhonda nodded. "Well, that's a respectable job. _I'll_ be going to Harvard Law."

His mouth opened and said, "Really now," yet inside he was thinking _I believe I already saw that movie._ "Are you going to become a lawyer or something?"

"Nope," she answered. "With a background like that, I'll be able to know when people are screwing me over. After all, just telling people you _visited_ Harvard is like saying you went to high school with the Pope."

***

Helga backed to the far back of the seat whenever she spoke to the driver. It was almost comical to watch to her, but yet it caused her voice to miss the receiving microphone in front of her. "I never caught your name there, Slim."

The hefty man behind the wheel slowed the car down to the light. "Jonathan. What's that book down by your feet?"

She was pressed against the back of the seat, almost imitating somebody climbing a mountain with their back to the wall, looking down at the book on the floor of the Limo. "Oh, that. It's a personal momento I have to return to somebody."

"Isn't this Prom though?" The man tapped the gas gently as soon as the light turned green. "I mean, couldn't this have waited for some other time? Are you just gonna give it back during the middle of the dance?"

Helga nodded. "Yeah, something along the lines of that." She glared her eyes over without moving her head. "Trust me; it'll all work in out in a big, Hollywood ending. It serves a purpose."

"Hey, it's your dance, not mine." The squinty-eyed man kept his narrow gaze on the lines of the road. "Just thought it was kind of weird for somebody to bring a book to Prom."

***

The location was out in the countryside. A large, castle-like building set out by itself stood out as a giant crouching down in a field. It was a "meeting hall" according to the school. There was no fence to protect it, but there was a long drive equipped with surveillance cameras on posts.

Helga turned to the chauffeur. "Where do you go when we leave the car?"

The man shrugged as he navigated through the twisting driveway. "I'll just be sitting in the parking lot waiting for youse guys to get out. Have you ever seen 'Die Hard'?"

Helga nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Then why are you asking a stupid question like that?" The man sighed and pulled up to the front of the building. "I've got a bunch of cassettes in the trunk of this car. Thank God this thing has a good stereo."

"That's it?" she asked as the limousine parked in front of the building. "You're just gonna sit here and listen to music?"

"Aw, nah." He took his hand off the wheel and reached in his pocket, pulling out a small, blue rectangular piece of plastic. "Game Boy Color."

***

Jonathan opened the door for Rhonda and Robert, forcing to break their grip with each other as they exited. Helga stood beside him watching, shaking her head in a false sense of disapproval. "Robbie-Robbie-Robbie, you lady killer."

Ignoring what she said but acknowledging her speaking to him, Robert immediately stepped out of the car and went to her. "Are you _sure_ Jim's gonna be here later?"

"I know the guy," she convincingly bluffed. "He wouldn't stand me up for something this big. Especially with how much a ticket costs."

Robert's eyes shifted to Rhonda and back on her. "Okay then. Are you coming inside or are you gonna sit out here and wait."

"I'm going inside, doi!" She crossed her arms against the fine fabric of her dress. "You think I'm gonna sit out here with Jon? There's a dance in there, Rob!"

"Yeah," he explained. "You don't ever go to dances. I thought maybe you'd wait until you had someone to dance with."

"Nah, there's food in there. I'll be sippin' punch until he shows up." After have saying that, shock instantly shot up her spine and she clapped her hands together. "Wait, I left something in the front of the car. I'll meet you guys inside."

Robert nodded, somewhat symbolizing regret. "Okay, then." He turned away from her and walked inside with his arm around Rhonda's waist.

Helga turned to her left, not until then realizing that Jonathan was at least a foot taller than her. He could've been bouncing people out of the prom and making some decent money of he wanted. She patted him on the inside of his elbow. "All that stuff I said, don't take it into offense. You have a good night."

"You too." He finally closed the Limo door. "Don't forget your book there."

She was already on her way to the passenger seat. "I won't."

***

Sid stood by the punch bowl with Stinky. "Couldn't find a date, huh?"

He glanced down wistfully at the red liquid in his cup. "Noper. You too."

"Nah, I'm going with the brunette over there." He pointed across the crowd to one of the girls dancing on the floor. "You see her?"

"Wow, Sid, she sure is purty. How in the heck'd you get a girl like that?"

Sid took a sip of his glass and gusted proudly, "I'm paid for her tickets on the grounds that she would dance with me tonight so I'm not the loser without a date standing by the punch bowl."

Stinky nodded, but quickly whipped his head in question at Sid. "Then why aren't you dancing with her?"

With the same proud tone, he responded, "Because, Stinky, I don't know how to dance."

***

Gerald, Phoebe, Harold, Patty, and Arnold sat across from each other inside of the white Limo: Gerald, Phoebe, and Arnold on the rear and Harold and Patty closer to the partition (_It's the only way this gonna work_ Gerald had said. _You're not gonna fit in the same seat as Harold and Patty._). The radio was going and playing an oldies station; some song from the seventies warning that "now you're messin' with a son-of-a-bitch".

They sat there, staring awkwardly at one another, both leery about whether or not it was okay to be affectionate with their dates… all but Arnold, of course, who wished that nobody would so he wouldn't be the only odd one in the car.

Phoebe decided to break the silence up between the group. "So, Arnold, you couldn't find anybody to go with?"

His elbow was propped against the tinted window with his face in his hand. "Everybody found someone. It's okay, though. I'm sure to have a good time either way." He smiled to the group but turned back to the window, rhythmically tapping his fingers against his cheek.

Gerald grinned over to Patty and Harold. "So, how've you two been?"

Patty shrugged and responded, "Good."

Gerald smiled from ear-to-ear. "Good!" _Has that girl's voice gotten deeper or is it just me?_ "That's good!" He pushed the button to talk to the driver. "Yo, Rudy!"

The partition parted and the driver, an anorexicly skinny black man, smiled over to Gerald. "Yes?"

"Hey, how much longer until we're there?"

The man smiled revealing a mouthful of perfectly white teeth. He coolly spoke back, "Don't worry, man. We're getting' there. It'll be about six more minutes, G-Force."

"Aight," Gerald said as he pointed to driver. "You're awesome, Rudy."

When the partition was rolled up, Arnold turned to Gerald and smiled. "This is a… pretty nice ride, G-Force.

Gerald smiled right back. "Rudy's a friend of the family. He's cool as hell. We're getting' a fifty percent discount."

***

There was to be a live band performing, one by the name of Logan 6, on the small stage in the room but it hadn't arrived yet. Being well prepared for the situation, the prom organizers secured a DJ if the band wasn't coming. Logan 6 was still going to show, but not until later into the evening, so until they're arrival the DJ was slightly off to the side of the stage with his equipment plugged into the amplifiers. Nobody seemed to notice, yet nobody seemed to care.

Helga stood next an arch to side of the room. It led to a hall with bathrooms and a kitchen. She stood clenching the book behind her book in her hands, and at the same time using it to soften the edge of the arch's sides. _Where is he? Is he even here yet?_

***

The bathrooms were huge and luxurious. The men's room had eight stalls and ten urinals, plus a couch like Park had always been told the women's bathroom had. Every time he had heard someone talk of a woman's bathroom, the discussion of it having a couch came up. Now he finally found a men's room with a couch. Life was good. He wasn't going to sit on it, but he had proved the impossible possible.

The only thing that did not seem to fit was a small, dirty window in the wall a yard above the sinks and just left of the counter. While he was washing his hands, it had started to slowly creak open. _Okay,_ he thought to himself. _What's going on?_ A black shoe then poked its way in, followed by somebody yelling, "He went around the corner!" A struggling "oof" was uttered and eventually Curly fell through the window and onto the tile floor.

After standing up and dusting off, he looked over to Park and grinned. "Hey, buddy! What's up?"

Park turned the cold water knob off and stared at Curly, continuously pointing at the window and at him while shrugging in confusion. "Why? I thought you bought a ticket."

Very calmly, he adjusted the sleeves on his tux and straightened his hair out. "See, I was walking through the park when a seven-foot _bear _came out of nowhere and started to pound the living hell out of me. Then when he was done, my pockets had been shred opened and the prom ticket fell out. When I picked it up, I was immediately surround by a Japanese Ninja biker gang named the Hong Kong Kings, HKK for short."

Park rolled his eyes back. "Curly, you are so full of…"

"AND THEN THE LEADER," be belted out with his arms outstretched, "a man by the name of Tao-Gan Funishi, came over to me with an icy gaze of death in his eyes. He pulled out a American quarter and flipped in the air, while he said… 'Ooh mus' fight us or you sha' die!' And I gripped him by his jacket and said, 'I will destroy you in less than twenty-seven seconds. _This_ much is promised.'

"I karate kicked the guy to the left of me." He motioned the moves with his hands as he spoke. "Then I went HAH-TAH-TAH," his arms were stuck outward and sliced through the air, "to the guy on the right of me! Then I jumped on _that_ guy's shoulders, back-flipped in the air, and fell with my arms strangling the guy behind me. Then I propped myself on top of _his_ neck, swung around, kicked the leader in the gut and sent him flying into a tree! WHA-TAI-TAH-TAHHHHHHHH! But then the guy between the guy on the left and behind me pulled out a gun and pointed it right in my ear. They reached at my hand, twisted it while at the same time holding a pressure point, forcing me to drop the prom ticket. Then one of them CRACKED me on the nape of my neck and knocked me unconscious.

"I woke up on a fishing boat surrounded by four Inuit fishermen, collecting tuna to be canned for Russia. They were nice enough to give me a ride back to the city through the dock, but when we landed they pulled large Arabian swords on me. You know the type; they're really fat with the little curve next to the tip. They wanted all the money in my pockets but I was broke. So I jump-kicked the first guy in the face, leaned over and snapped the second guy's neck, rolled back and stepped on the third one's spine, and kneed the last guy in the stomach and caused him to fall with pain. Then I went home, got dressed, and came here."

Park stood by the sink still, stunned by Curly's creativity. "Did you lose it or something?"

"Nah," she uttered. "Helga mugged me."

Park's eyes widened at the sound of the event. "I feel _so_ sorry for you."

***

Gerald's Limo pulled up to the front of the building. Rudy rolled down the partition to talk to him. "Hey, man, you want me to get the doors and all? Because I feel at fifty percent off, you're getting' fifty percent the service."

Gerald shook his head. "Nah, man. We're cool. Arnold, can you get the door?"

Without any expression, he opened the door next to him and stepped out, followed by everybody else in the Limousine. He walked to the driver-side window and gave the Limo driver a ten-dollar bill. "I feel it's at least _my_ contribution for the evening."

Rudy took the money and held it in his hand outside the window. "Am I driving you _home_ or are you getting dropped off at Gerald's house?"

"Gerald's house."

He took Arnold's hand and placed the bill back into it. "You keep that, man. I don't want that. Have a good night."

Arnold put the bill back in his pocket. "Thanks, Rudy. You have a nice evening too."

As Arnold walked away, Rudy turned to the passenger seat where he had a PSone with an attached LCD screen. "Oh, you know I will, buddy."

***

The DJ gripped the speaker and started turning down the current song playing. "That was 'Gossip Folks'. Now, I bet you've all been waiting for it: Logan 6! Logan 6, everybody!"

The band was already standing on the stage with their instruments turned on. The lead singer, a very shaggy haired man about twenty-eight years old with a letterman jacket for Adams High School, approached the mic with a very fake British accent and said, "Hello, Hillwood High School, class of…" He turned tot he man playing the bass guitar. "Hey, what year is it?"

The man with the guitar shook his head and shrugged. "Last time I checked, it had been eighty-seven. That was a while ago."

He turned back to the audience, now heavily impatient and just wanting some music to be played. "Any requests?"

Helga cupped her hands over her mouth to bullhorn her voice. "YEAH! HOW ABOUT PUTTING THE DJ BACK ON! YOU SUCK!"

"Just for that," the man said while pointing over to Helga, "we get to decide. This one's an oldie but goodie…"

"JUST PLAY THE SONG ALREADY, YOU HACKS!"

"It's called 'Gonna Have a Good Time!'" He scowled away from the audience and signaled to the drummer to start playing. "YEEEEEAAAAAHHHH!"

Helga backed off the wall while the band started playing, instantly rushing to Arnold as he walked through the door. "Arnold, come with."

The boy stood confused, his thoughts agreeing with his mouth. _Huh? _"What?"

She yanked his hand away from his pocket and pulled him over to the kitchen, still holding the book out of view from Arnold. "Come with. Follow me."

Being practically dragged by the arm, he followed Helga.

***

"Ow!" he yelled as soon as he had his arm free. "What's going on?"

"Where's your date?" She interrogated with her hands behind her back. They were standing in the middle of the large kitchen at a square counter in the middle of the room. Arnold stood on one side while Helga was at the other. "Did you stag it up tonight or what?"

"Huh?" After pausing for a minute with his hands to his forehead, he held on to what she was saying. "I couldn't find a date. Why? Where's your date?"

She pulled the book from out behind her and slammed it onto the counter. "_This_ is."

Arnold scrambled for the book and held in front of himself to make sure he wasn't imagining it. "Oh, _great!_ You're _stealing_ from me again? What do I have to do, bar my windows?"

"As much of a good idea that is, don't get off subject." She walked around the counter and over to Arnold. "I read it."

Trying to pull off a good front, he placed the book on the counter and rested his arm on it while facing her. "What? Are you angry at all the stuff I say about you in it or something?"

She smacked across the side of his face, leaving a red mark of her hand that lasted for ten seconds or so. "I didn't really read _that_ much, but if so you disserved that."

Arnold rubbed at his cheek. "Ow! How much did you read?"

"Enough," she said smiling.

Arnold's eyes shifted from her and to the book, from her and to the book. "So…" Shifted from her and to the book. "What are you trying to say?" Shifted from her and to the book.

"God, Arnold!" She through her hands up and walked over to a large refrigerator. She spun around and put her arms down. "Admit it! While I was sitting here, suffering from being shut out into the cold after you denied me emotion, you were secretly harboring feelings for me! The proof's all there; not only in black and white, but also in your handwriting!" She moved back over to the other side of the counter across from Arnold. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He tapped his fingers slowly on the counter. "Well… there's…"

"What?" She pounded her fist down on the counter. "When _were _you gonna tell me?"

"Hey!" He was now shouting and pointing back at her. "How long did _you_ wait before telling me; twelve, thirteen years? All of sudden, you expect me to drop the same bomb as you and watch the havoc unfold?"

"I didn't _lie_ though!"

"And with the way you treat me and everybody else in the world, how can you expect me to proudly say, 'Hey, there's Helga! The meanest girl on the face of Earth! Boy-oh-boy, do I like her!' Face reality!" He was breathing heavily. Being a very passive person, this couldn't be good for his throat. _I guarantee I will have no voice tomorrow._ His face glowed red with anger. "You are one of the most despised people I know!"

"Oh, shut up with that crap!" Once again, she walked over to his side of the counter. "Do you think it was easy for me to admit the way _I_ did! I have been stumbling over you for my entire childhood! Do you think I can just go, 'Hey, there's goody-goody Arnold! I wonder if he likes girls with one eyebrow?' My decision was just as hard as yours was if not harder, and _I_ actually acted towards it! If I hadn't taken your journal, I would've never known!"

"Once again, maybe you shouldn't _steal from me then!_"

***

Park was currently dancing with the girl Sid had paid for. "Hey, did you just hear something?"

She stopped and paused in the middle of the dance floor. "I can't hear anything over the music!" she yelled back.

"Huh," he said, scratching his head. "Must've been my imagination."

***

"I'm sorry things didn't go your way, but _come on!_ You can't blame _your_ problems on my secrets!"

"No, but I can blame them on how you _lied to me about them!_" She punched the counter with what seemed to be almost every other word. "I _came _to your _house_ and _you said _that _you couldn't_ return _my_ feelings and then _repeatedly_ kept telling me you had _no interest in me!_ _WHY WOULD YOU _DO _THAT TO ME!_"

"Because I was confused!" He took two steps back from her to make sure he wouldn't lose his hearing by the end of the night as well. "I didn't know what to do with you just _there!_ Then again, I didn't really plan on coming here and getting _lectured tonight!_" He put his arms out with his hands stretched flat and took a deep breath. "There is a Prom going on out there, _our Prom_, and I'm missing it because of a freakin' book!"

"Just say it!" She said, moving towards him and pushing him on his shoulders. "Just _say_ it!"

"You already know, what good is me _saying_ it gonna do?"

"I want to hear you say it!" She kept moving towards him, pushing him, until he was against another counter next to a stovetop range. "_Just say it!_"

"Why?"

"_JUST SAY IT!_"

***

"I swear I heard something!" Park stopped dancing once again with the girl and stuck his ear out to listen. "You swear you didn't hear that?"

She put both hands atop of his shoulders. "Boy, if you stop dancing with me one more time, I'm gonna punch you in the face."

Park looked at her and shrugged. "Okay, then."

***

"Fine! I love you!"

She moved in closer to him and narrowed closer into his face. "_What did you say?_"

"What?" Arnold held his arms out in confusion. "First, you force me to say it, now you want me to repeat it! Is nothing ever goo enough for y-"

Helga cut off his sentence and began embracing him. She pulled off with her arms wrapped around him. "Oh, Arnold… you do love me…"

"Oh," Arnold protested. "Now that you have all of the yelling out of your system, you're just gonna act-"

"Damnit, shut up! You're spoiling the moment." She moved in again and kissed him. This time when she released him, he fell to the floor on his face.

"Arnold?" Helga bent down, bushing her dress out of the way of Arnold's torso. "_Arnold?_"

***

Robert and Rhonda stood at the punch bowl with Nadine and Brainy. Nadine was explaining the events the day before that led to her being there. "And then I finally asked him to go to Prom, after already buying his tickets beforehand, he finally said yes! Didn't ya, Brainy?"

He was stuttered and panted his way to his message: "Um… uh… yeah."

Nadine grabbed at his cheek. "Isn't he just adorable?"

Rhonda smiled and looked to Robert. She raised her eyebrows and looked back to Nadine. "I was really expecting you to show up with Peapod or something."

"Well, you were wrong, weren't you?" She grabbed at Brainy's shoulders, seeming to almost shield herself with his body. "Brainy here is all I'll ever need. Isn't that right, Brainy."

"Um… uh… okay."

Helga rushed across the room over to Rhonda, catching breath as soon as she got to the table. "Rhonda… phone… Arnold… Hey, Brainy, you're going out with Nadine?"

Nadine smiled and answered for him, "Yes, we are. I had to 'stalk' it out of him."

Helga turned over to Brainy. "I thought you said she wasn't the stalker."

"Uh… um… lied."

She nodded. "Hmm. Interesting."

Rhonda cleared her throat. "Helga? You were saying?"

She stood up from the table and straightened her dress out. "Do you have your cell phone? Arnold passed out and hit his head hard on the floor. I think he should have a doctor look at it. It's swelling up _really bad_."

Rhonda looked around as if it were on the table a minute ago. "It's in the Limo. Just go out to the parking lot, it's on the backseat."


	33. Chapter 32: In The Air

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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CHAPTER 32: In the Air

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"Don't wanna tangle with you.  
I wanna tangle with him.  
I think I'm gonna bash his head in."  
Stroke 9 - Little Black Backpack

Gerald and Rhonda's limousines were parked across from each other, and it was a half-hour before Rudy rolled down his window to talk to Jonathan. "Hey, there, what ya got?"

He held up the Game Boy. "Ready 2 Rumble. You?"

He leaned further out of the window. "I bet you that I can whoop your sorry ass all over this place in Tekken." He grinned and held up a PlayStation controller.

Jonathan opened the driver side door. "You're on, Suzy."

Before he left the Limo, Helga ran up to him. "Hey, is the back of the car unlocked?"

Jonathan had a foot outside of his door when she showed up and took him a while to recognize Helga. "Oh, you. Yeah, why? What you need?"

"My friend fell down and hit his head. I was going to call an ambulance." She quickly scrambled to the backseat.

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa!_" the man scolded Helga. "He hit his head and you're calling _paramedics?_ Just prop him in the backseat and I'll drive him home. Just make sure he doesn't have a concussion."

Helga opened the door. "Yeah, but I don't know how to do that."

Jonathan slapped his hand and spread it across his face. "You know what? Where is this kid?"

***

"Arnold!" Helga slapped him at the side of his face. "Hey, wake up, guy."

His eyes slowly opened to look up inside of his bedroom. "Wh… why am I here?"

"You passed out," she explained. She was still in her dress and made up, but his tuxedo jacket had been removed. "I couldn't leave you there."

"But it's _Prom_…" He went to sit up but grasped his head in pain. "What happened?"

"You confessed your love, I kissed you, you passed out." She smiled and held her palms up in front of his face. "What can I say? I'm just that good."

"Well, what time is it?" Arnold went to check his wrist but he instantly remembered that his watch was on the dresser. He set it there before he took a shower for Prom. "Can you check the clock and see what time it is?"

"Oh, sure!" She picked the small potato-powered alarm clock. "It's eleven-thirty, buddy."

"Well, hey, Prom's still going on!" He struggled to sit up again but grabbed his head. In what sounded very Superman like, he managed to squeeze out through his clenched teeth, "Must… go… back…"

Helga pushed back down on the bed. "Boy, you're not going anywhere. You went to your Prom, you passed out, but at least you didn't stay home. If it's about the money, I'll just pay you back next week."

He shifted his eyes around in thought, and gazed back at Helga. "Okay, I'll stay in bed."

She smiled along with him. "Do you think you'll be alright?"

"Why, do you want to spend the night or something?" Arnold shifted around on the bed and pushed his blanket with his feet to his hands. "Well?"

"I call the couch." She made her way over to it and jumped on. "Goodnight, football-head."

"Okay, then." They both laid down wide-awake. "Maybe it would help if we turned off the light."

Helga giggled and then burst out laughing onto the floor. Her laughter started to become quieter and she tried to speak, "Oh, man, I don't know why this is funny!"

Arnold started to laugh as well. "So, are we officially going out or what because I can't remember anything."

Helga raised herself onto her knees. "Well, what do _you_ want?"

Arnold sighed and straightened his blanket out. "I want these lights shut off. Ah…"

Helga moved on her knees over to the mattress. "So, do you want to be a couple or are we just at an agreement?"

He rolled over and smiled at her, her hair was partly running down her back and the rest of it was floating in the air thanks to static electricity. "Yeah, let's be a couple. Yeah."

Her grinned instantly became wider, not progressively but almost as a camera trick: quick cut and paste to the next picture. "I love you."

Arnold started to chuckle and finally came out with it. "Your hair is just going crazy right now. It's _really_ funny looking."

She without trying to see her hair as some would (she had often seen people move their head up when somebody told them about their hair - as if they try really hard, they'll be able to see the top of their head) and started patting down her hair. "Shut up. You're the one who got taken out by a floor tile."

"Turn the light off before I make this the shortest relationship in the history of mankind."

***

Curly had finally found her amongst the crowd. "Hey, Sid, who's _that_ guy?"

He took a sip of punch and looked over to what Curly was talking about. His lips were now stained red above and below. "Um… that's Mike Trenton! Remember him? I thought that guy moved or something."

Curly held out his punch cup in front of Sid. "Well, he's about to die." His hand stood out in the air for a while until he finally looked over to Sid. "What are you waiting for?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I said that he's about to die and handed you my cup to set it down. I can't go kick his ass with a cup of punch in my hand."

Sid glared at the psychotic freak. "Dude, set your own glass down."

Curly ignored the suggestion and stood to the right of Sid with his punch cup in front of him. After ten seconds of impatient foot tapping, he finally set the cup on the table. "I'm gonna remember this one, Sid. Wait and see." With that he left.

Sid turned over to Stinky and groaned. "Remember the good old days when we first came here and nobody else stood by the punch bowl? Why is it that we attract the _geekiest _people?"

Having said that, Eugene and Sheena made their way over to the snack counter. "Hey, look Sheena! Little Vienna sausages in a blanket! How ingenious!"

Sid shrugged and sighed. "We're doomed to die and slow and horrible death at the hands of our lesser."

"Sid, could you shut yer mouth fer five seconds, you're really cheesin' me off."

***

Curly tapped Michael on his shoulder fiercely with his index finger. "Hey!"

The man turned around, resembling a 1950's movie monster, and stared him down. "What?"

"Get away from my girl, you damn…" He paused, trying to find an insult that could even scratch his protective surface. "…Woman… stealer…"

"What the hell are you talking about? I asked her, she said yes!" Mike put his hand on her shoulder, displaying her like a Wheel of Fortune monitor. _Yes, we have one G. _"Do you know this guy, Gloria?"

"Yeah, I do." She moved his hand away and stepped towards Curly. "You need to stop this, okay? It's creeping me out and you're ruining my evening."

"No, no, NO!" Curly spun around to emphasize his point to her. "THAT guy is ruining _our_ evening. Did he touch you?"

"Curly!" she yelled. "This isn't funny! Leave us alone!"

"No, I can't let this idiot take away the only thing I love in life." He moved her aside and put up his fists. "Come on, Mike, I'm ready."

Michael put his hands up in surrender and turned around. "Hey, I don't want to have any part of this."

While he was turned around, Curly punched Mike in the back of his head. "Come on, fight back!"

Without hesitating or breathing, Mike swung around quickly and jabbed Curly in the gut. "I thought I _told_ you I didn't want to fight!" He put his arm around Gloria's shoulder as she stared at the boy grabbing his stomach. "Let's get away from here."

"HEY!" Curly held his hand out and then swung it by his side. "We're not finished!" He stood up straight and cracked his neck, putting his fists back up in the air. "Get back here!"

Mike pushed Gloria aside and walked back to Curly. The band had already stopped playing, becoming enthralled with the conflict on the floor. From three inches away from his face, Mike yelled at Curly, "Why can't you get it through your head, kid? She doesn't want you! She never has! She-"

Curly poked him in the eyes before he could be finished. "Touché!" Following that, he punched Mike in the chin and kicked his crotch. "Olé!"

Mike grabbed at himself, wincing in pain. "AHH! You little son-of-a-"

Curly punched him in the mouth, then in the chest, and followed it by kicking his left knee, causing Mike to kneel down to the floor. Mike was still grabbing at his groin with one hand, but shaking his fist at Curly. With all of his rage, he spoke quite calmly. "I'm gonna fuh-"

Curly had gone behind him and kicked him in the back, knocking out his front tooth when it hit the floor. "You were saying?"

Curly took three steps as Mike was getting up, his tooth in hand. Mike put his hand to his mouth, feeling the gap and the blood rushing out. He pointed at Curly and gritted his teeth. "I am gonna tear your ass apart, you little bastard!"

This would've been effective and threatening, if only he hadn't lost his front tooth when Curly kicked him. Instead, his words came out _I am gonna there your aath apar, you little bathard! _Immediately, everybody burst into laughter. Curly crossed his arms, fully aware of the crowd's new opinion of Mike. "Come get me."

Mike ran, seeming to want to tackle Curly. "_AHHHHHHHHHH!_"

Curly jumped out of his way at the last moment, letting him take out Eugene. The pimple-faced teen had been ripped away from his date, not to mention his tuxedo jacket. As soon as Mike was back on the ground, Curly started kicking at his sides. "She's _mine! YOU HEAR ME? MINE!_"

Mike had been trying to maintain his masculinity, but was now on the floor weeping uncontrollably from pain. "Stop! Stop! Please, just stop!"

It was then that the Prom security finally decided to intervene. One man came over behind Curly and grabbed his arms while the other walked in front to confront him. "Well, that's enough of that! You're just a little troublemaker! Can I see you pass?"

Over-dramatizing the situation, Curly replied through clenched teeth, "I don't have a pass."

"Come on, son." The guard motioned forward and Curly started to move forward, especially because the one behind him was gripping his wrists together and making it hard to resist.

Curly yelled back as he was pushed forward, "_She's mine, Mike! Keep your hands off of her! And stay away from the park! Watch out for the Japanese Ninja bikers! Watch out for the…_"

The guard behind him punched him in the back of the head. "Shut up, freak!"

Mike picked himself up and wiped his tears away. "Gloria, let's leave."

She nodded, staring as they took Curly away. "Yeah, let's get out of here."

Even as Mike stood up, Eugene was still on the ground. Eventually, he put up his hand to let the crowd know he was still alive. "I'm okay."

As they left, the band looked over to each other wondering what to do. Finally, the singer stepped to the mic and cleared his throat. "Well, 'Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting' is now out of the question. Any requests from the audience?"

An anonymous hand sprung up from the audience. "Do you know 'Let's Build a Home'?"

***

Sid turned to Stinky, a freshly filled glass of punch in his hand. "I told you that one day, he was just gonna snap."

Stinky looked disappointed at his friend. "Are you just gonna stand here all night and drink punch?"

He took another sip and smacked his lips. "That would seem to be the plan."

"Why'd you even bother buying a ticket then, especially one for that girl who you haven't talked to all evening?"

Sid took another sip and looked at Stinky. "Where's your date, man?"

He scratched the back of his pencil eraser-shaped head. "Hmm… well, you sure got me there, Sid."

"Of course, Stinky." He put the glass up to his lips to finish it off, but not before saying, "You sometimes forget that I am much smarter than you."

***

The lights had been off for almost an hour and a half, but Helga and Arnold were still talking. Arnold lay on his bed, and Helga had nested on the floor next to it with a pillow. Arnold had his arms crossed looking up through his windows. "Twelve years… "

Helga shook her head, lying in the same position as him. "Correction: fourteen years. Preschool and kindergarten have to be taken into consideration."

Arnold smiled, knowing she couldn't see. "Right then. Fourteen years is a pretty long time."

Helga nodded. "Yes, it is. Hey, what's the deal with Luxembourg?"

Arnold cracked a large smile across his face, releasing a small laugh in the process. "What are you talking about?"

She stood on her knees, resting her arms crossed on his bed and put her head on top. "Luxembourg is a _really _small country next to France. Smaller than Rhode Island, I think. Why doesn't someone just take it and claim it as part of another country?"

Arnold felt like laughing, but inside he was thinking about the question seriously. "I have no idea."

"That place is so small, it probably has two cities and a population of fifty. It could be the city of Luxembourg and nobody would notice."

After holding back for a while, he started laughing uncontrollably.


	34. Chapter 33: Dropping the Curtain

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

****

Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

________

****

CHAPTER 33: Dropping the Curtain

________

__

"Tonight, I'll dream while I'm in bed  
When silly thought go through my head  
About the bugs and alphabet  
And when I wake tomorrow, I'll bet  
That you and I will walk together again.  
I can tell that we are gonna be friends."  
The White Stripes - We're Going to Be Friends

Arnold picked the hat up off the ground. Not returning it would result with a small fine that he didn't feel like paying and an earful from the rest of the students. _Hey, Arnold! Aren't you going to pick up your cap?_ He walked it over to where two adult staff members (They must've been janitors because he had never seen them before in his life) where they took it away. He reached in his pocket, pulled out a five-dollar bill, and they took off the attached tassel for him to keep.

Arnold stepped away from the rest of the students after hugging each one of them with the usual comments. _Good luck, Arnold. Never change, man. I still have your copy of _Yo Dino Raps _and you're never getting it back! MWA-HA-HA-HA-HA! _It was the generic barrage of comments you hear in the High School movies, but don't ever think happens in real life. Maybe life is more like the movies; maybe all the cheesy surprises and run-out gags happen everyday around us, but we pass it off as nothing but nonsense and gibberish. Maybe all that nonsense _is_ important. Every minute of life should be analyzed as to what effect it will hold for the future, and no second of time should ever be wasted idly.

Past the crowd of seniors and faces he'll only recall twenty years down the road stood Helga, waiting for him in the same old pink dress he had loved from grade school. Well, in a literal sense it wasn't the same, but who cares? He instantly wrapped his arms around her, diploma in hand. "Thanks for coming."

She smiled in his arms, squinting from the sunshine. "You know I wouldn't miss this. You'll be around for mine, won't you?"

He disbanded the grip and tugged at his graduation gown. "Here's what I figure I'll do: I'll attend the Hillwood Community College for a year, and then maybe see if I can arrange it for me to get into a better college than all I've been offered. By then, you'll be out of High School and can come with me."

She blinked at him, confused at what her response should be. "You'd do that just to stay here?"

"Do you want me to go?"

"I don't know, do _you_ want to go?"

"I don't _know_, do _you want me to go?_"

***

Curly ran up behind Gloria and put a hand on her shoulder. "So, now that you have that loser Mike out of the picture, I was wondering-"

"What do you mean 'out of the picture'?" She flung his hand off of the shoulder and turned around. "What, you think because you embarrass me and my date for the evening by beating him up that I'll just run to your arms?"

Curly stood, twiddling his thumbs. "Well… yes… that's the way it usually goes."

"Get away from me!" She threw the hat at people collecting them, and angrily walked away. "I hope I never see you again!"

Park walked over to Curly, who was frozen staring at her leaving, and rested an elbow on his shoulder. "Thad, it's better this way. You win some, you lose some."

He shook a finger as if trying to make a point and turned to the kid on his shoulder. "One day, she will be mine. Oh, yes, my skeptical friend; she _will_ be mine!"

He quickly snapped Curly in the back of his head. "Stop."

Curly bit at his bottom lip and finally threw his hands up in surrender. "Fine! I'll forget about her! Geez!"

***

Rhonda and Robert walked away with their arms around each other. He looked into her eyes, but turned away sheepishly. "Is this the end of us?"

She looked down at her diploma and back to the man on her shoulder. "I don't know. How will we keep in touch?"

"I could come by every weekend or something," he suggested. "It'd be hell driving down there, I mean a day a trip or so. How far apart will our colleges be?"

"I don't know." The confusion between the two caused them to let go of each other. "We could call… or write… maybe you can enroll at a college near me."

"That'd probably work for a while, but afterwards I'd like something better." Robert picked up his shoe and found he had stepped in dog crap. He rolled his eyes and continued walking, scraping his feet in the grass as he did it. "The only place that will take me on such a short notice would be a community college with cruddy courses. I've already been accepted in Pittsburgh. Where's Harvard?"

She tilted her head to the sky. "I don't know… well, you know, I could probably have my parents fly me out to you every weekend."

"After a while, I think it would lessen their bank account." He checked the other shoe and found that it too had been smeared in feces. _Does it ever end?_ The foot started to drag with him on the grass while the other walked steady. "Damn, now this is really upsetting me."

"Let's straighten it out tomorrow." Rhonda waved at various people she passed by, flashing the little 'Oh-I-don't-like-you-but-I'll-pretend-I-do-while-I'm-waving' smile to every one of them. "Tomorrow we can plot it all."

"I don't think I can do that." He stomped his foot in a final attempt to knock the crap off of his shoe. "Now, I have this stuck in my head and I can't get it ou…"

She silenced his mouth by swinging around and kissing him. When she was done, she pulled away and started walking again. "Let's talk about it tomorrow."

He quickly caught up with her. "Tomorrow is very good for me."

She sniffed around and turned to Robert. "What's that smell?"

***

"So Patty!" Harold shouted. He never really noticed it but 9 out of ten times when he was talking, he was shouting. "Are you going to Rhonda's graduation party?"

"Harold," she droned out, "why are you asking me like I wouldn't be going with you?"

"'Cause I wasn't going." He turned to the comfort of his shoelaces, the good old pals who had never judged him since preschool. "I wanted to know if you were still going to go without me."

"Harold, you know I wouldn't do that." She wrapped an arm around his waist, squeezing him closer. "Who's my Hair-Bear? Come on, who's my Hair-Bear?"

He shrugged and moaned out, "I am."

"I wouldn't leave you alone. You know that."

***

"Phoebe," Gerald started while walking through the football field - Why is it that graduations are always on the foot ball field? "I've been thinking… since school's over and after summer, we're bound to split our separate ways, I figured maybe I could tag along with you and… stick around while you go to college."

"Gerald, I'm going to England."

"And I love English muffins!" Gerald winked and pointed at some of the people he passed. "Come on! We can get an apartment together, have some tea and scones, and drive on the wrong side of the road! It'll be a dream come true!"

Gerald raised her eyebrows up towards each other. "You mean you actually want to follow me to England?"

Gerald wiped at his forehead and grabbed Phoebe's hand. They both stopped in the middle of the field. "Phoebe…" He reached into a cut in the gown to his pants pockets and pulled out a ring box. "This isn't what you think. It's a commitment ring; saying that maybe some day I might get serious and engage you."

He didn't even have to open the box to show her; Phoebe immediately took it and jumped onto his body, legs wrapped around his back. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…"

"Phoebe," he uttered, "can I go with you or not because you are really doing damage to my spine right now."

***

Eugene held Sheena by the hand as they walked along the field. "Wow, I can't believe high school's over. What are you doing tomorrow night?"

Sheena took a deep breath and grabbed Eugene by the shoulders, stopping him in his tracks. "Eugene, this isn't going to work?"

"What?"

"Look," she tried looking away while she explained so she wouldn't see his face, "I feel like I need more time to just be by myself and maybe do a little bit of… experimenting…"

Eugene cocked his head sideways. "Huh?"

"I need to go off and live in the woods or something. I need to get back to the basics and be my own woman." As she rambled on, Eugene just gazed stupidly unaware of the message of anything she was saying. "I think we need to break up."

Eugene finally caught the message. "Oh. I understand."

"Great! Bye!" She let go of him and quickly ran off the field. Her parents sat in the parking lot with a large, rusty Volkswagen van in the parking lot. She slid the back door open and hopped in, which was quickly followed by the van peeling out of the parking lot.

Eugene watched the van take off, scratching his head. "Experimenting?"

***

Sid and Stinky each handed their caps in and walked off the field to where their families waited. Sid tugged annoyingly at the gown, scratching and itching himself in the process. "Argh! I _hate_ this thing! I can't wait to go home and take it off!"

"Well, why don't you just take it off right now?" Stinky, to show his meaning, took his off to reveal the clothes he was wearing underneath. "Just carry it until you get to the car."

Sid immediately stopped scratching and dropped his arms to his side. "Um, there's one problem with that."

"What's that, Sid?"

"I didn't know we were supposed to wear clothes under these things."

***

Brainy and Nadine passed by several of the people they had been aquatinted with for all of their lives that they wouldn't see again until a class reunion. Nadine turned to her heavily panting boyfriend and cheered, "Wow, school's over! Aren't you excited?"

"Uh… yeah."

"Okay, seriously, Brainy." She stopped and slapped her hand on top of her face. "I know you can talk without all the 'um' and pausing and I know you know this. Can you just answer this? We're finally out of school! We no longer have to sit here and _learn _anything! We're adults!"

Brainy pounded at his chest and cleared his throat. "Well, just because we're done with school doesn't mean we're actually adults. Author Isaac Asimov once said that the problem with youth today is they believe that once required amount of school is done for, we find anything to do with learning or being creative as childish and done for. Simply because we're out of school does not mean we should stop learning. What do you think?"

Nadine parted herself from the boy. "Um… I think I hear my mom calling me…"

Brainy slumped his head down and shrugged. "Okay, then…" He moped his way across the field as he watched Nadine rush to her parents. He may have appeared slow at some times, but he could see what was going on. There was a reason he never said much.

***

Helga's parents had driven her to Arnold's ceremony, but never left the car. Miriam was really aggravated by the whole situation, but she had fallen asleep anyway so it didn't matter. While Helga was gone, she actually started waking up more and being more active. Now that she was back, it seemed like everything was slowly twisting down and turning back to normal. Her snoring had also grown louder since Helga left, so Bob was even starting to be annoyed.

Before sending her off to her parents, Helga had followed Arnold as he hugged his grandparents who Ernie and Oskar had helped get out of the house. They stood by the Packard, waiting for Arnold to say whatever he needed so they could leave.

Arnold first hugged his grandmother. "Thanks for showing up today."

"Well, you know we wouldn't stay around that old boarding house." She patted him on the back and let go. "Besides, I think are house is being surveillanced by the Gestapo."

He nodded and went on to his grandfather. _Same ol' Grandma_. "Thanks, too, Grandpa."

"Oh, don't mention it, short man." He too patted him on the back before releasing him. "Besides, there wasn't anything good on the television."

"Grandpa."

"Hah-heh, I'm just yankin' ya." He pulled at his suspenders and laughed quietly. "So, when are you gonna come home?"

"Well, there's a party at Rhonda's I was thinking of attending. I'm gonna be home really late tonight."

"Okay, but you be careful." He shook Arnold's hand, but melodramatically pulled his head away. "No! I promised myself I wasn't going to cry!"

"Grandpa…"

He smiled and turned back. "Man, I just can't hide anything from you. I thought that maybe you were expecting that or something. You know I won't be able to call you short man anymore, right?"

"You can if you want."

"No, no; it's not gonna seem right. I need a _new_ nickname. Um… how about young man?" Phil raised his finger in the air as if to yell _Eureka!_ "No, no, that won't work. How about not-so-short man?"

"Bye, grandpa."

"Bye to you too, Arnold!" He waved as the two walked away. "Pookie, he's all grown up now. He's too old to control anymore. Who's gonna rake the yard now?"

Gertrude put an arm around his shoulder. "You know… we could always make _Oskar_ do it for money off of his rent."

Phil stretched his arms out and scratched his side. "Just fifteen seconds ago, the senility in me made me forget why I married you. I think I just remembered it."

***

"So, are you riding with me or your parents?"

Helga had just reached the trunk of the Pataki family car. "Parents. I'll get a ride home from you though. See you at the party, Arnold."

"See ya, Helga." He watched as she climbed in the car and slammed the door, waking up her mother from her deep slumber. He walked back over to his Christmas present car and jumped into the driver's side. In less than ten seconds, he was on the street.

Just another school year over and done.


	35. Epilogue

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

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Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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EPILOGUE

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Outside, the rain pounded against her window. The sound of every droplet banging violently against her window had started to get irritating. It was nights like these that reminded her of the old days. It was the worst storm the city of Hillwood had ever seen since she was in high school. Although the city wasn't flooded now, this storm was still pretty bad.

In two weeks or so, there would be an addition to the family: Arnold Jr. Staring out of her bedroom window, she started to look at her dim reflection in the glass. She had changed drastically. The little nine-year-old of her childhood days was now gone and replaced by someone else she had met before a long time ago in a dream. She had become her own vision of how her adulthood would be… except for being the president.

She had always sworn that one day she would get away and run to someplace better than this, but after college her opinions had changed. Arnold and Helga had both finished their schooling and decided to get married. The boarding house was shut down when his grandparents died. It was bound to happen sooner or later, and when it did he took it very well. He didn't cry, and he didn't break down. He knew that they were in a better place and much happier than they were with all of their aches and pains. After that, he couldn't stand being around the boarding house at all though. He had to sell it to the highest bitter. Fortunately, that was a young couple who moved from Florida and has been doing quite a good job with running it. After they moved to a house of their own, Helga couldn't imagine raising a child anywhere else in the world. They still vacationed to all those places she had wanted to visit, but afterwards they'd come back here and be happier for home more than ever.

All of their high school friends seemed to have disappeared. The only ones who had kept in touch at all were Robert, Gerald, and Phoebe. Robert is currently living in Texas as a journalist for a statewide newspaper. The boy who wanted to become an art teacher ended up being somewhat of an author. It seemed fitting to his character, yet odd and offbeat for him. So far, things seemed good for him. Rhonda had moved out there with him in the beginning, but eventually she left him. Since then, he found Deborah, another journalist for _The Texan Tribune_. Nothing was serious at the moment, but they were making quite the couple. As for Gerald and Phoebe, they're still in England. They fell in love with the country and the people and decided to buy a home in the English countryside. Phoebe's letters seemed to always be more serious and happy for Helga. Gerald's letters seemed to be like it were him and Arnold just talking about unimportant crap again. _Man, I saw all of those Harry Potter movies and there were only three black kids in each one! I know there's more color over here in England! I'm living here, and I see more black people than I ever saw in Hillwood! Where are the black kids in Harry Potter?_

All of their former classmates went on to live interesting lives. Nadine broke up with Brainy and ran off with Sheena to start an organization interested in protecting flower-dwelling insects. Eugene's acne later cleared and had been the co-star of many critically-acclaimed Broadway musicals. Rhonda became the housewife of a football player for the Detroit Lions. Mike went on to become a prison security guard. Stinky used his previous commercial experience and ended up doing a long line of commercials for HiTek computers, only to lose the contract after being arrested for "undiscloseable charges". Sid joined the Navy and somehow became lost at sea; it's rumored that he eventually floated to Portugal and started a new life. Five days after High School, Curly vanished into nothingness; the search continues for his body. Gloria heard the news of Curly to be missing and her paranoia turned into insanity; she is now committed at the state mental hospital. Patty and Harold live in Massachusetts where Harold's living his lifelong dream of becoming a butcher. Park, ironically enough, works as a state park guide for tourists: what would be the qualifications for a job like that? The only other student Arnold and Helga had caught wind about was Peapod Kid; he had become an entrepreneur to his own business - he developed a new form of Styrofoam that was cheaper _and_ biodegradable.

Loves had come and go with Helga in high school. If you would've told her in her sophomore year that she would've settled down with Arnold and was about to have his child, she would've broken your nose and many other anonymous body parts, yet afterwards written a diary entry fantasizing the issue more. She was living the dream and loving the life, _If only Arnold would just come back home tonight._

He had just left to go to the store, but the minutes felt like Helga while she was alone. He was too good to her. In the middle of one of the worst storms ever and he had left to buy her some ice cream. _That's_ devotion: to risk the chance of sliding off to the side of the slippery road on a mission to get his wife a carton of Hagen-Das. The thought of her without him seemed impossible to pronounce. Without him, she was nothing. With him, he was everything. Life and luck had finally smiled down on her, and it seemed to be the start of something bigger than she is.

The car pulled into the driveway, the same one he had in his senior year of high school. He rushed from the rain in his thin jacket and into the back door by the driveway, a beige plastic bag in his hand and a two-liter of Yahoo soda in the other. She stayed in the bedroom, waiting for him to bring the goods to her.

He finally did, removing his jacket when he got into the room. "Hey, I got you the chocolate covered cherry chaos like you asked for. Do you need anything else?"

"No, I'll be fine, sweetie." She reached her hands out, waiting for the small tub of ice cream and the spoon he had brought in. "I love you, Arnold."

He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "I love you too, Helga."

Later on, the power would cut out. By morning, it would be back on, but Arnold and Helga would sleep right through morning. The streets would clear up, the sun would shine, and the day would be new. The world would have been washed clean again and ready for the start of something else. And it would be again for the next two children that she'd give birth to, Elizabeth and the comically named Jimmothy. It was still the same two children who had known each other since preschool just a tad bit further down the road, a little older and wiser but the same people altogether.

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And they lived happily ever after. The end.

Shaun Blankenship

September 27, 2002 - May 3, 2003


	36. Author's Log

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MDT's "Hey Arnold!" Fan Fiction

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Same In The End

Written By Shaun Blankenship

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Author's Log 

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First off, I'd like to say that reading this will give you no further information to the story line, but was created out of boredom and the chance that somebody might want to know this stuff. These are the, so to say, 'DVD Bonus Features' of the story.

If you made it this far, thank you. I really want to thank you for reading my entire story and sitting through it. I thank you even more if you actually enjoyed it. Those who read this without knowing my past work might want to check out my profile. Just click on the name above, 'MDT', and you'll see everything I've done. You won't understand the Michael Trenton references without reading… Michael Trenton.

I'd like to take some time and answer some stuff. One thing I was asked about was how every chapter begins with a song quote (except for the prologue and the epilogue). A lot of people wondered why. Many people didn't take the time that many of the chapters' titles (and the title to the story) came from song titles and song lyrics. Here's why: music is a key part of everyday life. Without music, my life would be dull and boring. When I'm listening to music, I'm thinking about listening to music. Music is the only real poetry that anyone cares to hear anymore, and you can quote that. Why am I listing things? Because it's Saturday, I woke up at midnight after falling asleep at ten, drank a 2-Liter of Vanilla Coke and now I can't get to sleep. I'm caffeinated. My brother had some friend's over and they kept me awake. Right now it's three in the morning.

Many sequences in this story nearly didn't happen. Last minute changes happened I switched things around. **Examples:**

+ Gerald and Arnold's conversation in chapter eleven was originally lengthier. They started talking so excessively (more than I shortened it down to) that it lost _me_.

+ At the end of that same chapter, I think Robert goes down to Slausen's and talks to Rhonda. I think that's the right chapter. Anyway, that whole period building up to that was originally different. I had Robert stumble on to her poetry and be shocked about it, but then I remembered that he already knew Helga's secret. When he went down to Slausen's, he originally spoke to Sheena instead of Rhonda. I didn't think Sheena would've held up that good of a convo.

+ In the 'Tis the Season chapter, Sid's dad starts wallowing in pity over the death of his mother. Where is Sid's mom in the cartoon? Have they ever shown her? Why I bring this up is because that wasn't supposed to be Sid. I originally wrote that for Harold, and I was going to say his mom's death was a heart attack. Nothing cruel; it just seemed fitting. It was then I remembered that Harold's Jewish, and I don't know much about Hanukah.

+ Also in the 'Tis the Season chapter, I almost revealed Brainy's stalker. I thought, _Nah, I can wait with that_.

+ The Helga and Arnold fight after detention was originally supposed to last until May. This story was going to be really short when I originally wrote it. It was going to be that they weren't going to reconcile until Graduation and before they threw their hats in the air, Helga was going to grab Arnold and kiss him. It would be then that she was going to confess, not in December. I decided to scrap that because that would've been too big of a jump to make. This story jumps like a frog. I spent no time in the story at all in November.

+ If you think the language these kids use in this story is bad, you should've read some of the stuff I scrapped. It was like watching a Jay and Silent Bob movie.

+ I had wanted Helga to commit suicide after being shut down in December, but I thought that would've been too abrupt of an ending. Suicide is never the answer.

+ Queen is the greatest rock group ever. I'm pretty sure they show up more than any other bands in my song quotes. Every time I hear them, I just punch myself in the knee at the fact that Freddie Mercury is gone and there won't be anyone else ever again like him. Many people know how he died (some have no idea what I'm talking about) and dismiss his music because of it, but being that closed minded is not the way to live. His lifestyle was his own business and I don't care; the man made some great music before he died. Go out and buy a Queen CD, you won't be disappointed. Buy 'Jazz' or something.

+ I spoof like no other, and if you look closely at some of the story you can find it. Mostly, I like taking the names of shows and changing the titles to similar equals. Craig Bartlett's new upcoming cartoon, Party Wagon, was spoofed as Shindig Buggy. I also said it was by the creator of Ross and Co., the cartoon Park was obsessed with in my other fan fiction 'Park' that was very much like Hey Arnold almost down to exact dialogue. South Park was spoofed as North Town. I pretty sure I also spoofed a couple products throughout the story (Orange Glo was the basis of the basis of the infomercial Grandpa was always watching. The cleaner with the power of grapefruit: I can't remember what I called it. Maybe it was Great Grapes or something).

+ Arnold's Creative Writing teacher is Miss Apollyon. I was thinking of names, so I pulled up my trusty Thesaurus and looked up 'demon'. 'See DEVIL'. 'Syn.: Apollyon…' Enough said. It's just a little ode to my Creative Writing teacher, Michael Crichton loving… I can't believe she hates Stephen King. She calls all of my stories sarcastic and off-topic of what she assigns (which they are not). She called one sardonic: scornfully mocking. How can such a narrow-minded person be a _Creative_ Writing teacher? I have more to say about her, but I'm not going to. Everything she does in the story has happened to me. One day I brought a pop to class and she poured out of the window. I had only taken two sips.

+ All of the teachers in my story are all based off of my teachers. Mister "Cleredon" in my school even brought in Apricot Nectar one day. That guy is awesome.

+ There's a part right before Helga's confession where I describe her uneasiness as being amongst a secret society. I used that there because I really wanted to use it somewhere and I felt right there I could relate. I recently auditioned for the school play, and every time I went to the auditions I felt like I didn't belong. I stood there so nervous and shaking and… it felt like any minute Misses Walls was going to say, "Shaun, what are you doing here? You weren't invited." It's one of those moments where you feel like the outcast, and I think that's how Helga felt when she tried to tell Arnold. I also feel that because I am the holder of a several year crush myself. I don't think I could ever tell the girl, although she heard it because of my stupid brother. Talk is cheap though, and nothing comes better in the open than person-to-person realness. Then again, I fall in love everyday with people so I really can't think about telling one girl something like that. I'll just change my mind tomorrow.

+ The fanfiction.net author Chief has written such great stories as My Name Is Robert, Robert Revisited, and Robert's Search. In my story, Helga keeps calling Robert by the nickname "Chief". A coincidence? I think not.

+ In the beginning of the story, Gerald mentions a rapper named MC Fool. MC Fool is an alter ego I created one day. I would wear a baseball pendant, a pair of cheap sunglasses, and a Red Wings winter hat left so that the top of it sticks up. I'd then do my best impression of DMX. "Uh-HUH! WHERE… MY… DOGS… AT? Oh… they… right there. Ruff Rydas…"

+ Arnold once harbored a girl named Autumn Swanwick in his home. Autumn Swanwick is a combination of two girls I know's names: Autumn Pollock and Victoria Swanwick. I don't know if they'll get mad for me saying their names, but I had to. The girl in the story was almost exactly like the _real_ Autumn. Victoria is a lighter, fluffier person.

+ _High Fidelity_ is a good book, unlike _Ordinary People._ If you ever have a day to kill, read _High Fidelity_ by Nick Hornby. The language _is_ kind of weird since the author's British, but it's a really good book. It's my life story almost, except for owning the record store and having a top five list of my worst relationship. I do top five sometimes. You need to read it to understand. The only good thing about the movie was Jack Black.

+ As I said earlier, there were many different paths that this story almost went down. Helga was originally supposed to go back to Arnold's house and confess on the night they went to High Stakes. In fact, High Stakes wasn't even going to be in the story. Many scenes were written and deleted right after I was done. I got rid of a whole chapter once. Before the party, I was going to make Rhonda going out with Robert. I decided later not to; yet I hadn't read Chief's Robert Revisited. I was also about to bring back Mike Trenton back in the second chapter. Helga also had confessed at Rhonda's party on Halloween. Gerald and Arnold in Chapter Seven were freakin' harsh on Harold too. They were rude and stuff, but I cut it out because it didn't seem in character.

+ Iggy had been part of the hockey game, but I took him out because he never said anything. It seemed a little pointless… and also that I never heard of Arnold forgiving Iggy.

***

January 1, 2003

I'm updating this log just to just to keep up on some stuff. Plus, Helga's journal entry that I've just written in Chapter 19 has left me wanting to do this. Four hours ago at one o'clock, I journeyed up to my local Meijers and purchased… hold on, wait for it… _HEY ARNOLD THE MOVIE!_ Yes! YES! My mom bought my brothers and me a DVD player for Christmas, so this has been _my_ first DVD that I bought only for myself. Nobody else here likes Hey Arnold. To anybody else who has this DVD, what's with all the freakin' Charlotte's Web 2 plugs? I saw that crap and I just wanted to smack the Paramount executives.

If you haven't seen the movie, or you downloaded that version where the beginning is missing off of the internet where someone spliced the cartoon's main title sequence to make up for a lost fifteen minutes, go out and buy it. Don't rent; BUY!

I hope to finish up this story sometime soon, but keeping that attitude will only result in the ending being choppy and thrown together. I hate that. That's the only flaw I find with the movie. The beginning takes ten minutes through the span of almost twenty-eight days. The movie is also too short. Seventy-five minutes! Usually, movies are at least an hour and a half! If they had put an extra half-hour of supporting scenes in there, the movie would have been so much better. That movie just whipped by until they met that one girl… ugh, what's her name? You know, Jennifer Jason Leigh's character… I can't think of her name.

Well, here's some other stuff that had been typed out:

+ The chapter, 'Lugubrious': I couldn't decide what to call that little intermission of the real story. If you take that whole chapter out, everything will still make sense. I flipped around through my thesaurus and found the word. I'm not even sure what it means anymore.

+ Throughout the story I have mentioned how Arnold has a job but it never seems like he ever has to work. The 'Lugubrious' chapter gave a little inside onto all of that. I actually had to track back a little to remember where I said he was working. I don't blame you if you forgot either.

+ The Ruth thing had been planned to happen earlier. After I cut out Helga's confession at Halloween, I thought Ruth and him should go out. If you dive in deep, it's kind of set up in that chapter for it to happen. I brought it back after looking at my plotted outline and thinking, "Eh, I should throw that in. It'd add more interesting filler."

+ 'Magic in the Hand' - this has been a joke with me for a while. There's an Everclear song called The Good Witch of the North where he says, "My good friend is like magic in my hand. / When I lose my sparkle, she's the only one that understands. / I know I'm gonna marry you someday." For some reason, the lyric book that comes with the CD says "Magic in **_the_** hand," which to me makes no sense. Listening to the song, it clearly says "Magic in **_my_** hand." Man, that's a great song.

+ Helga searching for the old dress was just one of those little self-searching things I put in there. She was trying to get that old feeling back.

+ I almost didn't pair up Arnold and Helga. Helga would've ended up with Brainy and finding the identity of his stalker.

+ The Cure, The White Stripes, and Everclear - almost everything they do is at least decent if not great. The White Stripes' cover of "Your Southern Can Is Mine" is just funny if you listen to the lyrics. "Well, if I see you, momma, down in the heart of town, I'm gonna grab me a brick and tear your can on down…" I try using these three bands whenever I can. "Southern Can" and The Cure's "The Love Cats" have been stuck in my head for weeks.

+ Another song quote: Billy Joel - She's Always A Woman. Man, I had heard this song a few times when I was really young and my mom was into him, but I never listened to the words. I was with my mom and the song came on the radio. I just started bursting out laughing. If you haven't heard it, the song is terribly pretty. I mean, this sounds like the sweetest love song ever made. The lyrics, though, are just _great_. "She can lead you to live / She can take you or leave you / She can ask for the truth / But she'll never believe you / And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free / She steals like a thief / But she's always a woman to me." I mean, come on! This is, almost, the best love song ever… because it's so freakin' _true_! It is sweet, though. I mean, the whole song is she may make you mad with the thing she does, but she's always a woman. She takes care of herself and that's what's important, even though she may be selfish. Still, you have to love her: you don't have a choice. This song reminds me of Helga; this sounds like her description completely… especially the free stuff thing.

+ Late night TV is the funniest stuff. This has nothing to do with the story, except for the fact that I'd have the TV on while I typed during the late nights. One night, Jerry Springer was on. As much as I hate the show, I kept it on while I worked. On it was a "lady" who came on to tell her best friend that she was sleeping with her man… and that the "lady" was really a guy… named Bacon… and Bacon really hated her friend. She kept going on saying in this really funny voice, "I hate you! I hate you!" She didn't really give any good reasons, but that seemed to be the answer for everything. "I hate you! I - HATE - YOU!" … … … Well, I thought it was kind of funny.

+ Space Ghost Coast-To-Coast reference - In chapter 26, Gerald says to Arnold "You're bringin' me down, man" after being lectured about his love life. There was an episode where for some reason (I don't remember why) Space Ghost kept yelling out; "You're bringin' me down, man! Zorak! Zorak! (What?) You're bringin' me down, man! Psst! Moltar. Hey, Moltar. (What?!) YOU'RE BRINGIN' ME DOWN, MA- (Static to commercial brake)." It's just a small little "homage" to the show in a ver small, unnoticeable way.

+ Chapter 27 was almost cut. I was skeptical and kept it on a disk with me just in case I changed my mind. I knew that if I was going to keep it, I couldn't post it by itself. So before I posted Chapter 27, I wanted to write Chapter 28. Between that time, I took a long break from writing and collecting my thoughts of my _own_ life… that I may or may not publish on fanfiction.net. Right now, I'm not sure. When I finally came back to start up 28, I reread Chapter 27 and decided it had some real character. It wasn't the most cheerful of chapters, but it held its ground and kept the story moving. It was expressing exactly what I wanted. I love carnivals, yet I hate going to them. For some reason, I find it embarrassing to be seen as a teen there for no other reason but for a date. That stuff worked in elementary, it's not gonna work now.

+ I don't remember if the show ever covered why Harold is bald, but I do remember that during the Arnold Whodunit Marathon, they said he lost it to stress from being held back two grades. This would all work out, but in "Helga on the Couch" it shows Harold in the same kindergarten or preschool (I stuck with preschool, I couldn't remember) class as Helga and Arnold. Therefore, he must've been held back in preschool if he was still in Arnold's class in fourth grade. I didn't want to hold him back anymore, so Harold did graduate with all of his other classmates. Poor, poor Harold - always slumped with his downtrodden luck. I shall play a sad song for him as soon as I learn how to play an instrument.

+ Many references of my own life are in this story. I'm not gonna be graduating on time. I'm smart and all, but I'm a slacker. Then again, I haven't had much time to turn this in because I've been busy with schoolwork. You'd think I'd turn my work in and get my grades up. I am staying another year in school though… for a few reasons… mostly because I'm whipped… they want to spend next year with me in choir… Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Tootsie Pop show. Might as well nickname me Lolli 'cause I'm such a sucker I guess.

+ Chapter 29 was a compensation chapter. I don't think I had talked about Brainy for a while. Well, I did. Are you happy? ARE YA? ARE YOU REALLY FREAKIN' HAPPY?

+ Jimmothy was my creation a little while ago. I just love the sound of it. I wanna have a kid and name him Jimmothy. I also like replacing part of the lyrics to Missy Eliott's "The Rain." "It's just me, me, me; I'm Jimmothy."

+ Chapter 30 - Chapter 32: The titles - The Ceiling, The Roof, and In The Air. Think about that one. Where do you go from there? Now think about the metaphor used to connect the titles with the chapters' contents. I love that. Even if nobody else understands it, I love it.

+ Who is Vanessa? Well, I'm pretty sure out of all these people I know, I haven't incorporated her yet. I've made mention of all these girls I know: Victoria, Megan (I know she's in there somewhere), and Autumn. The only one I hadn't talked about at all was Vanessa. I thought it'd be a quick little joke to quip in there. Maybe I'll write a story later explaining Arnold and Vanessa. That'd be funny if you knew her… if only you people knew… I think my hands are scarred from when we were fighting. She claws, man. She scratches like dandruff. She bites too, man. She left bite-mark scabs (which meant it drew blood) on my freakin' arm. I can't remember what we were fighting about, but the incident itself was funnier than anything else ever has been. She takes everything _way_ too seriously.

+ Doug is based on this guy I know named… Doug. He's not really that sarcastic and rude, but he would be that lazy. I hate that guy, but I thought throwing that in the story might brightened the mood. It seemed like something out of Family Guy.

+ Jonathan is based on a guy I used to know as a kid named… Jonathan. Once again, at the moment I don't believe he's like this, but I could see him looking and acting like this when he's forty-eight or so. He has the look of a squinty-eyed rough guy who's working way to soft of a job.

+ There's an old movie (from 1976 to be exact) titled _Logan's Run_. This movie is a semi-impressing sci-fi flick that my mother is simply in love with. She loved it when it first came out. Being that way, she bought it on DVD and forced me to watch it. My mom is not a fan of sci-fi movies, but this one is the cheesiest out of any I've ever seen in my life… and I've seen a _lot… _yet she loves it. It stars Michael York - best known now for his role as Basil Expedition in the _Austin Powers_ movies. Why do I mention this? The name of the band that plays at the Prom is called Logan 6. _Logan's Run_ is about a man named Logan 5 in the future who is sent undercover to expose runners from a ritual called Carrousel. In the beginning, he's tapping at the glass of a nursery where the baby Logan 6 is laying. Logan 6, man. Logan 6.

+ Curly ran into a bear, a Japanese ninja motorcycle gang, and four Inuit fishermen with Arabian swords. Was anybody else really struck funny by this? I thought this was the best ever when I was writing it, but my little brother didn't laugh at all. Well, he did at the " I will destroy you in less than twenty-seven seconds. _This_ much is promised" line. If you say it right, it is pretty hilarious. This part I thought would be a funny gag to throw in. If you didn't like, well, I'm sorry. I couldn't pass that up. I might use it for a school paper.

+ DELETED SCENE - CHAPTER 31: _I cut this tiny little bit out of the story because it didn't feel right. I now accompany it with the surrounding sentences to show exactly where it was. This was cut out in the process of writing the chapter._

Without any expression, he opened the door next to him and stepped out, followed by everybody else in the Limousine. He walked to the driver-side window and gave the Limo driver a ten-dollar bill. "I feel it's at least _my_ contribution for the evening."

Rudy took the money and held it in his hand outside the window. "Has anybody ever told you that you're head is shaped like a…"

"Yes," Arnold frowned. "Yes, they have."

The driver smiled and started to lightly giggle. "I'm sorry, but it's kind of funny looking. You must've always been picked first in gym class… to be the ball, that is!"

While Rudy broke into hysterical laughter, Arnold snatched the ten dollars out of Rudy's drooping hand. "You have a nice evening there too, buddy." As he walked into the building, Arnold softly whispered to himself, _What a jackass._

+ Okay, you have to follow me on this one: a few days before writing Chapter 31, I had written a map for a girl to a kid's house. He's going to be having a bonfire pretty soon and she had no idea of how to get there. This served as some unimportant inspiration for this chapter _and _Chapter 32. On a long stretch of road, I drew little pictures on the side describing all the places she'd pass on the way… but none of them existed. "Drive past the three-eyed monster destroying the Native American reservation, and past the smoking clinic for Inuit fishermen, and past the Atheist church." For each item, I had a small picture drawn. For the church, I drew a small chapel with a sign outside that read: "Today's Service: What's the deal with Luxembourg?" Now piece that all together.

+ Chapter 33 - This is what I actually visualize when I think of all these kids graduating. The conversations and everything: especially Arnold and Helga and the squabbling. Of course, everything in this story _is_ my vision, but even if this story had been the completely Bizarro way around, it would be like that. That's just me… I have no idea of what I'm saying, but maybe somebody else did.

+ Every year, the juniors in High School in Michigan have to take what is called the Michigan Educational Assessment Program, or MEAP, test. Last year was my official junior year but they wouldn't let me take it… so I took it this year. The Isaac Asimov quoting comes from the last part of the English/Language Arts section. Just in case anybody wanted to know…

+ Well, I finished the story! PARTY! (Loud music and noisemakers sound) Man! What do I do now? Any suggestions? Any… any at all?

Seriously, I don't know where to go from here.


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